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THE GARDEN'S STORY 



OR 



PLEASURES AND TRIALS OF AN 
AMATEUR GARDENER 




BY 



GEORGE H. ELLWANGER 



7j 




NEW YORK 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



MDCCCLXXXIX 



:->'.^(. 



' f 



JUL 16 1889: 

log 2.^ r/. 

■•GTOV^- 



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^ 



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Copyright, 1889, 
By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. 



TO 

Rev. C. WOLLEY DOD, 

MASTER OF GARDENING, 

WHOSE WORK AMONG HARDY PLANTS 

HAS DONE SO MUCH 

FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF FLORICULTURE, 

THIS INCOMPLETE RECORD OF 

THE GARDEN-YEAR 

IS RESPECTFULLY AND GRATEFULLY 

INSCRIBED. 



You find me in my garden dress. You will excuse it, I 
know. It is an ancient pursuit, gardening. Primitive, my 
dear sir ; for, if I am not mistaken, Adam was the first of our 
calling. — Pecksniff. 

I am of Opinion that one considerable way to improve 
Gardening and the Culture of Plants would be to give a de- 
scription of the Plants themselves ; then the Soils, Climates, 
and Countries where the Plants to be cultivated naturally 
grow ; and what Seasons, Rains, and Meteors they have ; 
which, being imitated as much as possible, perhaps some 
Plants might thrive better than they do now on the fattest 
Ground. — Philosophical Transactions of the Royal So- 
ciety TO the End of the Year 1700, Article LXXXIV. 





HE publication of a book on the Gar- 
den calls for no apology — there are 
not half enough contemporary works 
on the subject ; there never can be too many. 
The design of the present volume is to direct 
attention to the importance of hardy flower- 
gardening as a means of outward adornment 
and as a source of recreation. Some of the 
very many hardy plants, shrubs, and climbers 
which may be advantageously employed are 
mentioned, and some hints are given with re= 
spect to their use and culture. 

I am aware the list is far from complete, 
even for this rigorous climate, where the line 
is distinctly drawn by the extremes of heat and 
cold. To enumerate all plants worthy a place 
under cultivation would require the knowledge 



vi 33ceface. 

and experience of a Loudon ; and tastes vary 
largely as regards the worth and beauty of in- 
dividual flowers. 

It has been the aim to present a simple out- 
line of hardy flower-gardening, rather than a 
formal treatise or text-book of plants — to stimu- 
late a love for amateur gardening that may be 
carried out by all who are willing to bestow 
upon it that meed of attention it so bountifully 
repays. Nearly all the subjects referred to are 
such as may be successfully grown in the low- 
er lake region, and, for the most part, have 
come under notice in the writer's garden. 

Different soils and different treatment often 
produce widely dissimilar results ; and even the 
limited list presented may possibly be found to 
contain some departure from the well-known 
types. Moreover, it is pleasant sometimes to 
look at a flower through different eyes. The 
flower remains the same, though its perfume 
may become accentuated, and the garden prove 
the more inviting the oftener its beauties are 
set forth. 



^Preface. vii 

The following chapters have been so ar- 
ranged as to present the various aspects of the 
garden from early spring until late autumn. 
But the garden year is so interwoven with the 
many delightful phases of external nature that, 
the more fully to preserve the sequence of the 
seasons, it has been deemed advisable to touch 
also upon the bird and insect life with which 
it is so intimately connected. The bee, the 
moth, the butterfly, are all inseparable attend- 
ants upon the flowers, and have their mission 
in the economy of the garden. The birds, also, 
are constant visitors to every nook and corner, 
and likewise possess an interest and have a 
voice in the garden's progress from day to day. 

Numerous references to the wild flowers in 
their native haunts, a chapter on the rock-gar- 
den, and a chapter on hardy ferns, have been 
introduced ; and, finally, more or less allusion to 
the flowers and seasons in literature has been 
made. The year referred to is that of 1888. 

G. H. E. 
Rochester, N. Y., 1889. 




Preface 

I. The Garden in Anticipation . 
II. An Outline of the Garden . 

III. The Spring Wild Flowers 

IV. When Daffodils begin to peer 
V. The Rock-Garden 

VI. The Summer Flowers 
VII. Two Garden Favorites 
VIII. Warm-Weather Wisdom 
IX. My Insect Visitors . 
X. Hardy Shrubs and Climbers . 
XI. In and out of the Garden . 
XII. The Hardy Fernery 

XIII. Midsummer Flowers and Midsummer 

Voices 

XIV. Flowers and Fruits of Autumn . 
XV. The Last Monk's-hood Spire . 




PAGE 
V 



3 
31 

59 
81 

105 
135 
165 
193 
209 
229 

245 
261 

275 
293 
315 



Index 329 



w 



@;i)e (^arben in ^ntici^jation. 



And the spring comes slowly up this way. 

Christabel. 

Or call it winter, which, being full of care. 
Makes summer's welcome thrice more wished, more rare. 

Sonnet lvi. 





I. 



THE GARDEN IN ANTICIPATION. 




I T appears a long way removed still — 
the goal toward which the length- 
ening days are slowly trending. In 
place of rampant Aries, ever charging upon the 
delaying spring, Patience-on-a-Monument would 
seem an equally appropriate symbol of March, 
were the signs of the zodiac to be remodeled. 
The seconds drag through a never-emptying 
minute-glass, until one wearies utterly of the 
tedium of the "loaded hours," and wonders not 
at the impassioned cry of the poet : 

O God, for one clear day, a snow-drop and sweet air ! 

Yet, bluster as he will, March has at most 
four weeks to retard the " open sesame ! " How 
gratefully the grass will smile at the first warm 
rains ; and what a caressing odor will arise with 
the first whiff of Daphne mezereumy a foretaste 



E\ft eUartJen's Stor^. 



of its sweeter sister, the rosy-cheeked Daphfie 
cneorum, and all the train of expectant flowers I 

Slowly, yet surely, the hour of the year is ad- 
vancing. Under the ermine of winter, April's 
treasures await only the robins' rondeau to call 
them forth. And what pleasure there is in the 
anticipation ! The swarms of tulips already 
gathering their forces — the dazzling rex rubro- 
rurns, the bizarres, and the tall marbled by- 
bloems, which look like the old-fashioned silks of 
our pretty grandmothers. That bank of oxlips, 
cowslips, and primroses, too — " crimson-maroon 
sparkler," " Danesford yellow hose - in - hose," 
" lilac pantaloons," and ever so many more in- 
viting names — which you placed along the south 
garden-wall, what a mass of bloom will not push 
through the mottled earth ! And that hamper 
of daffodil-bulbs, sent by a friend in England, 
what wealth of beaten gold will not unfold from 
the fragrant petals ! 

Will pallidus prcBCOX outstrip obvallaris in 
the race ; and will " golden plover " vie with 
" golden dragon " ; or can any daffodil, born or 
yet unborn, excel the glorious bicolor of the 
Lancashire weaver, John Horsfield ? Only, as 
every rose has its thorn, Horsfieldi has its seri- 
ous drawback, at least with me, in decreasing in 
vigor every year. Perhaps it is the fault of soil ; 



)Jn ^ntfcipation. 



more probably a matter of climate. But, inas- 
much as I have succeeded in wooing the coquet- 
tish Lzlium auratum so that she smiles instead 
of frowns, I shall continue to persevere with 
Horsfieldi, which is worth any pains to obtain 
in the perfect full-blown flower. 

To think it has taken all these years to ren- 
der a daffodil " fashionable " ! As if a live flow- 
er were a ribbon, subject to the caprice of a 
milliner ! Yet, what may we not expect when 
lovely woman stoops to blond her tresses, and 
vandal florists figuratively plunge a flower into 
the dye-pot? Scarcely a case where beauty is 
truth, truth beauty. Perhaps, some day, ma- 
genta may become the mode, and a magenta 
gown call for its accompanying flower of the 
same shade — a chance to let a zinnia scream. 
The camellia, described in the dictionary as 
"a genus of beautiful plants," fortunately has 
had its day — banished with the wax flowers in 
Wardian cases, let us hope, never to return ; 
too bloodless and too cold even for a chancel ; 
a flower absolutely without a soul. In the in- 
dex expurgatorius should be included the calla 
lily, which still does lugubrious duty at funerals. 
Talmage's wish that, when he dies, his grave may 
be strewed with a handful of violets, a water-lily, 
a sprig of arbutus, a cluster of asters, rather than 



E\}t (fS^KxXftn'B Storg. 



that he be laid in imperial catafalque of Russian 
czar, is a sentiment relatives would do well to 
consider at the obsequies of those they may be 
called upon to mourn. The final tributes at the 
grave, above all, should express the floral prefer- 
ences of the departed — the old custom of the 
Indians, clothed in a softer, lovelier garb. 

In-door flowers at this season atone, in a 
measure, for those unobtainable out of doors — 
always providing one can afford to pay a dollar 
apiece as the price of a new rose, and shut one's 
olfactories to the taint of tobacco-smoke and 
the villainous-smelling stuff shot at the red spi- 
der that frequently adheres to the glass-grown 
queen of flowers. Marie Louise violets and lilies 
of the valley lose none of their sweetness by 
being grown out of season. The violet ! how 
pure its wave of fragrance ! And the potfuls of 
"£-rand soleil d'or" and " grand primo" taz- 
zettas ! — surely here is spring incense enough 
to fill a cathedral at Easter-tide. Is there any 
odor more delectable than the mingled essence 
of pineapple, orange, and banana, which this 
form of the poet's flower exhales ? To many, 
the odor of paper-white {Narcissus papyra- 
ceus) and the Campernelle jonquil (A^. odorus) 
is almost overpowering ; they should be used 
sparingly, therefore — a single spathe will suffice 



JJn glnticipatton. 



to scent your librar}\ Powerful enough they 
are to have pleased Baudelaire, who, preferring 
musk to violets or roses, declared, " My soul 
hovers over perfumes as the soul of others hov- 
ers over music." There is, indeed, an intoxica- 
tion, and often a strong association, in the sub- 
tile odor emitted by certain flowers. Does not 
the perfume of Lzlmm auratiim, stealing from 
the spotted petals, recall the reedy jungle and 
the stalking tiger? Or a gorgeous epiphytal 
orchid, steeped in its mysterious perfume, does 
it not simulate unconsciously some strange form 
of tropic insect or animal life ? I oftener recall 
a flower by its odor, to which sentiment tena- 
ciously clings, than by mere characteristics of 
form or color. What an indelible aroma, that 
of the fragrant everlasting of the fields ! — a 
wild, haunting" odor, as of fallen leaves after the 
latter rains, when the sun extracts their essences, 
rather than the characteristic fragrance of a 
flower. Through its rustling, ashen petals I 
already inhale the autumn from afar, and an- 
ticipate the last sad cricket's cry. If Addison 
be taken for authority, we can not have a single 
image in the fancy that does not make its first 
entrance through the sight* — a dogma which, 

* " On the Pleasures of the Imagination." 



8 E^t ^artren's Storg. 

though emanating from the " Spectator," is 
manifestly sophistical and untrue. Was Addi- 
son deficient in the sense of smell (the voice of 
a flower) ; or was a thrush's song powerless to 
awaken in him a sentiment of sublimity ? But 
Addison does not mention odors, and, for the 
most part, I take it, did not like external sounds ; 
or was it Steele who wrote the essay " On the 
London Cries " ? 

Bulwer declares, the only perfume a man 
should use is soap and water — a heresy. I 
would not for a moment commend musk, or 
even ylang-ylang ; though the latter, it seems to 
me, is preferable to the compound of Jean Ma- 
ria Farina with which men fairly saturate them- 
selves. Consider its ingredients : orange, cedrat, 
neroly, bergamot, and rosemary — scent enough 
to trap a cougar. But this is supposed to be 
fashionable ; while a hem-stitched handkerchief, 
with a lingering scent of violets, has no business 
to peep from the masculine pocket. Why should 
everything dainty be monopolized by the fair 
sex ? Has it not enough, with its feathers and 
ribbons and laces and jewelry, without carrying 
out the adage to its ultimatum, " sweets to the 
sweet " ? It even robs masculinity of any pro- 
prietorship to color, except what little can be 
focused into a scarf, or polka-dot a waistcoat. 



fin Anticipation. 



I'o be sure, there are those striped Joseph's- 
coats one meets at the sea-side, appropriately 
termed "blazers," which woman openly pro- 
fesses to admire, only to contrast them inward- 
ly with the sea-side habiliments of her own hu- 
man form divine. Even her blue bathing-dress 
she has deliberately pirated from the sailor of 
the high seas, and pilfered the crowning charac- 
teristic that proclaims man a man — the stove- 
pipe hat. 

Let those of the sterner sex who love the 
delicate aroma of a flower not hesitate to use 
its essence when distilled by an Atkinson, if the 
flower itself can not be had to take its place on 
the lapel. Does not Dumas pere, fn the " Vi- 
comte de Bragelonne," speak of the Bishop of 
Vannes as exhaling " that delicate perfume 
which, with elegant men and women of the 
grand world, never changes, seeming to be in- 
corporated in the person of which it has become 
the natural emanation " } Another case where 
they manage these things better in France. It 
is well known, moreover, that flower-essences 
are prophylactic and antiseptic — the more reason 
why they should be employed in moderation, and 
that their use be not monopolized by woman. 
'* There are perfumes," says Gautier, " which 
are fresh as the skin of a child, green as spring 
3 



10 2r!)e ^artren's Storj. 

meadows, recalling the flush of sunrise, and car- 
rying with them thoughts of innocence. Others, 
like musk, amber, benzoin, spikenard, and in- 
cense, are superb, triumphant, mundane, pro- 
vocative of coquetry, love, luxury, festivity, and 
splendor. Were they transposed to the sphere 
of colors, they v^ould represent gold and purple." 

I open the jar of rose pot-pourri to flood 
the room with the subtile essence of June. No 
evanescent odor, but one that permeates and 
clings, evaporating not, changing not its sweet- 
ness from year to year. I do not refer to the 
dry, soapy-smelling article of commerce labeled 
" Tea-rose Pot-pourri from Japan," but to the 
old-fashioned "rose-jar," made from your own 
garden-roses, blended with a sufficiency of other 
sweets to hold its perfume immutable. It is 
difficult to give a precise recipe for a rose pot- 
pourri, for no two ever turn out quite alike. I 
would say, however, with fat old Baron Brisse 
in the preface to an entree in his " Petite Cui- 
sine " : " There is a certain point in this prepara- 
tion rather difficult to seize ; but this is the way 
to set about it in order to be complimented : " 

The roses employed should be just, blown, 
of the sweetest-smelling kinds, gathered in as 
dry a state as possible. After each gathering, 
spread out the petals on a sheet of paper and 



JJn ^ntfcipatfon. ii 

leave until free from all moisture ; then place a 
layer of petals in the jar, sprinkling with coarse 
salt ; then another layer and salt, alternating 
until the jar is full. Leave for a few days, or 
until a broth is formed ; then incorporate thor- 
oughly, and add more petals and salt, mixing 
daily for a week, when fragrant gums and spices 
should be added, such as benzoin, storax, cassia- 
buds, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, and vanilla- 
bean. Mix again, and leave for a few days, 
when add essential oil of jasmine, violet, tuber- 
ose, and attar of roses, together with a hint of 
ambergris or musk, in mixture with the flower 
ottos to fix the odor. Spices, such as cloves, 
should be sparingly used. A xo^^ pot-pourri 
thus combined, without parsimony in supplying 
the flower ottos, will be found in the fullest 
sense a joy forever. 

Notwithstanding the rarity of flowers at this 
season, no one with space enough for the small- 
est kitchen-garden need be without at least an 
abundance of violets. A small stock of strong 
young plants, placed in good soil in May in a 
partially shaded position, will have increased 
sufficiently by November to. supply a hot-bed. 
These should be planted within a few inches of 
the glass, early enough to insure their rooting 
well before extreme cold weather. The hot-bed 



12 2r|)e CKarticn's Storj. 

should be placed in the most sheltered and sun- 
shiny position, and be thoroughly protected on 
the sides with leaves or straw, and the sashes 
covered with thick matting and boards to ex- 
clude frost. So soon as the weather allows, in 
spring or during the winter, air should be given 
gradually during the day, recollecting that cold 
currents of air should be guarded against. As the 
weather becomes warm, and the plants require 
it, they may be watered occasionally. Pinch- 
ing back the runners will increase the bloom. 
After blossoming, lift the plants, divide them 
and place them in the open, as before. Dur- 
ing extreme dry weather they will naturally be 
much benefited by an occasional watering and 
mulching. No one who cares for flowers will 
grudge the little trouble and trifiing cost of a 
violet-bed which yields its wealth of blossom 
when other out-of-door flowers are still buried 
beneath the snow. I know of nothing that af- 
fords so much satisfaction for so little pains. 
Marie Louise is incomparably the most fragrant, 
floriferous, and satisfactory variety for hot-bed 
culture. 

From the adjoining hill-side at nightfall I 
hear the weird nocturne of the small screech- 
owl. A pair has always had its abode in the 
covert, in company with the red squirrels that 



Kn Anticipation. 13 

bark so fiercely at the falling nuts in autumn. 
They each give an air of wildness to the sur- 
roundings, and one feels as if the trees had 
found an expressive voice. I can not compre- 
hend why the owl should invariably be associ- 
ated with gloom and deeds of evil, or that his 
voice should allow us to forget for a moment his 
accomplishments as a mouser. When other 
birds have deserted us, and even the squirrel 
remains in his hollow tree, the cry of the owl 
rings out sonorously on the winter twilight, " I 
am here ! " Well may Thoreau rejoice that 
there are owls, and Jesse admire their soft and 
silent flight. Charles Lotin Hildreth is superla- 
tively the poet-laureate of the bird of wisdom. 
Shakespeare, Barry Cornwall, Shelley, Words- 
worth, Jean Ingelow, and Tennyson must each 
and all give place to his apostrophe. Take the 
opening and the closing stanzas, for instance : 

There is no flame of sunset on the hill, 
There is no flush of twihght in the plain ; 

The day is dead, the wind is weird and shrill ; 
Amid the gloom the sheeted shapes of rain 

Glide to and fro with stealthy feet and still, 
And, wilder than the wood's autumnal moan, 
A voice wails through the night, " Alone, alone ! " 

Night deepens on the haggard close of day 
With wilder clamor of the wind and rain ; 



14 ?rf)c ^articn's Storn. 

Louder the beaten branches groan and sway ; 
And fitfully the voice comes once again, 

Across the fields, more faint and far away. 
Is it the dark bird's wailing backward blown, 
Or my own heart that cries, "Alone, alone ! " 

The snow is fast retreating despite the raw 
March winds, though St. Patrick and the vernal 
equinox have yet to engage in their accustomed 
brawl. Indeed, St. Patrick never comes in with- 
out brandishing his blackthorn. As 'tis an ill 
wind turns none to good, so the dreaded equi- 
noctial is not without its advantages. Not hav- 
ing Blasius for authority, I can not tell why it is 
so ; nevertheless, the weather-vane of the equi- 
nox for the three days of its duration is an index 
to the character of the weather for the succeed- 
ing two or three months. A puzzling rule of 
three, no doubt, but why not as probable as that 
three consecutive white frosts are a never-failing 
sign of rain ? To be more explicit, the general 
direction of the wind and character of the weath- 
er during the several equinoxes would seem to 
be followed during the greater portion of the 
next quarter of the year by a like general direc- 
tion of the wind and character of weather. 

Avant-couriers of spring continue to blos- 
som diurnally through the post, in the shape of 
flower and vegetable catalogues. These unfold 



J^n ^ntfcipatfon. 15 



some interesting studies in form, and reveal new 
possibilities of color. Many of the covers seem 
Koula rugs transformed into card-board ; and 
the hideous greens, saffrons, and magentas that 
gape from the Anatolias in the carpet-store win- 
dows appear to have been lavishly borrowed to 
heighten the effect of the foliage and fruit of 
some new strain of gourd, ruta-baga, or colossal 
onion. The most powerful appeal of the season 
is a full-page plate of liver-colored tomatoes and 
zinnias in combination. In another distinctly 
aesthetic overture, a plant of the Ipomcea tribe, 
sent out under the name of moon-flower, has 
embowered an entire cottage ; while the moon 
itself, represented as rising in the horizon, shines 
only with a borrowed splendor in the presence 
of this high-class luminary. When the cata- 
logue informs one, in addition, that "the flowers, 
when unfolding, expand so rapidly as to be 
plainly seen, affording amusement and instruc- 
tion, and that, being a free bloomer, the effect 
on a moonlight night is charming," the reader 
need no longer doubt the advent of the floral 
millennium. 

Surely it is the weather that the crows have 
been denouncing so vehemently for several even- 
ings from their roost in the immediate vicinity. 
If we have not the rook, I am glad we have his 



1 6 2rf)e ^farUen's 5btori>. 

larger Plutonian cousin. His dusky shadow and 
husky bass have a charm of their own, and har- 
monize with the bleakness of early spring and 
the somberness of late autumn. Apart from the 
pestiferous English sparrow, the crow supplies 
almost our only winter voice. I place him with 
the black hellebore or Christmas-rose — a very 
good thing to have until there is something bet- 
ter to take his place. The Ettrick Shepherd 
should have substituted the crow-blackbird when 
he said, " The crow is down in the devil's book 
in round hand." I am glad to hear Phil Robin- 
son say he should be reluctant to deny this bird 
every one of the virtues ; and John Burroughs 
exclaim : " I love him ; he is a character I would 
not willingly miss from the landscape." 

The advance-guard of the robins has come, 
behind its usual time, but their reception has 
been too cold as yet to expect them to proclaim 
their presence in an audible manner. For the 
robins' silence the sparrows are doing double 
duty. I shall have to set my long pole in mo- 
tion again, and banish them from the front 
verandas to those of my neighbors. Birds, it 
is well known, will not endure being disturbed 
from their roosts ; and one or two dislodgments 
after nightfall will suffice to rout even the spar- 
row, although he is so disgustingly numerous 



Kn Anticipation. 17 



that there are soon others ready to take his place 
as public defilers. Too cunning to be poisoned, 
a light charge of No. 12 shot is the best means 
of allaying his obstreperous cry. I usually leave 
the corpses of the chief offenders, the noisiest 
among the cock birds, in some conspicuous 
place for a day or two, and the matutinal tom- 
tom in the sugar- maple near my sleeping-room 
gives place to a sense of delicious repose. One 
of the necessities of the hour is a noiseless pow- 
der, and a practical sparrow -gun, light and 
cheap enough to be generally utilized. A twelve- 
gauge gun answers the purpose, save for the 
loudness of the report ; and a small rifle is 
effective, but the successful use of this requires 
too much skill to meet the popular demand. 
Through the means proposed, no one need be 
disturbed except the chief offender, and a liberal 
supply of cartridges would perceptibly rid one 
of his loathsome presence. " The sparrow car- 
ries no purse," says Phil Robinson, " for he 
steals all he wants ; and his name is in no di- 
rectory, for his address is the world." If Bry- 
ant lived to-day, he would assuredly change his 
false refrain, " The Old-World sparrow is wel- 
come here." An anonymous writer voices a 
charming sentiment : " Cursed be the man — the 
enemy of the peace of all civilized Americans — 



1 8 2rt)c ffifarioen's .Storg. 



who imported them ! He should be incinerated, 
and his ashes blown by the four winds to the 
four quarters of the globe." 

The melancholy fact exists, notwithstanding, 
that the sparrow is here, and stands urgently in 
need of a prescription. He has succeeded in his 
dual role of harassing both mankind and his 
own desirable congeners. One by one he has 
driven away the song-birds from our home- 
steads, appropriating the nesting-places of the 
wren, the bluebird, and others, whose presence 
was invaluable in the orchard and among small 
fruits. The oriole still remains, concealed by 
the apple-bloom, or comparatively secure from 
assault in his rocking-chair in the elm. The 
song-sparrow and purple martin are diminishing 
yearly, the robin, blackbird, and oriole alone 
being able to resist his malicious persecution. 
In like manner, the Rocky Mountain trout has 
been placed in streams tenanted by the speckled 
trout, only to override and diminish a superior 
game-fish. Can not the champions of the Eng- 
lish sparrow people the country with the Austra- 
lian rabbit, or disseminate the Swiss goitre, as 
an act of philanthropy } A State or Govern- 
ment bounty on the sparrow's head would help 
to thin his polygamous brood ; his slaughter for 
" potted game " would add largely to the score ; 



Jtn ^nticfpatfon. 19 

the sportsman's trap might ingulf him by the 
thousands ; and wholesale netting, as practiced 
abroad, would well reward those who supply the 
restaurant larder. The shrike, or butcher-bird, 
is an admirable matador so far as he goes, and 
would, no doubt, end in exterminating him, with 
man's assistance, did he exist in sufficient num- 
bers. Let us pray, meanwhile, for the advent of 
a sparrow-bug, or Passer-aphis — some insect- 
scourge such as besets the inanimate world — to 
aid in delivering us from this feathered Philis- 
tine. 

The chimney-swallows, which last summer 
awakened me with their chattering and whirring 
in the chimney, at all times of the night and 
early morning, will trouble me no more. A wire 
screen placed across the top of the chimney has 
rendered a little folding of the hands to sleep 
possible at five in the morning. The chorus of 
the Hy lodes, or peepers, is yet in store — that 
piercing treble launched against the quiet nights 
of early spring that nothing — even the katydid — 
can equal in strident intensity, and that no earth- 
ly power can still. Fancy attempting to go to 
sleep in a country house near a swampful of 
these shrieking demons ! " It is a plaintive 
sound, a pure spring melody," says Burroughs, 
for once apparently forgetting himself, or led 



20 2rJ)e eSartJcn's^torj?. 

astray by its association with spring. But he 
sets us comparatively at ease by stating that 
there is a Southern species heard, when you have 
reached the Potomac, " whose note is far more 
harsh and crackling. To stand on the verge of 
a swamp vocal with these, pains and stuns the 
ear. The call of the Northern species is far 
more tender and musical." It is at least some 
consolation to know there are others worse off 
than ourselves. 

The uproarious crow-blackbird, too, is sure 
to return to the Lombardy poplars in April. A 
volley of coarse shot alone can drown his dis- 
cordant gutturals, which he hurls at you in utter 
disregard of the exquisite sensitiveness of the 
human tympanum. Fortunately for mankind, 
he is less numerous than the nauseous sparrow, 
or deafness were necessarily the all-prevailing 
malady. How many of these oral miseries there 
are awaiting us ! It is enough to develop a 
gouty diathesis to think of them. 

The blue-jay is almost always referred to as 
the most discordant among the birds, while little 
fault is found with the harsh voice of the grackle 
or crow-blackbird. Compared with the latter, 
the jay is a paragon in manners, dress, and 
every characteristic, unless we except his habit 
of pilfering the nests of his neighbors. His 



Kn ^ntfcfpatfon. 21 

voice certainly has a meaning from his vantage 
in the tree-tops. It is emphatically a cry of 
warning, uttered loud enough for every feather 
in the forest to hear, that an enemy is intruding 
upon the sacred domain. His crest of sapphire 
would atone for his shrill clarion, were not the 
meaning of his cry a sufficient excuse in itself. 
The grackle, on the other hand, only screams 
incessantly to hear himself scream, and to drown 
the voices of the song-birds. 

In Harris's " Treatise on Insects injurious to 
Vegetation," the crow-blackbird is made to pose 
as a public benefactor. The reader, at first 
shocked by the statement that " few persons, 
while indulging in the luxury of early green 
peas, are aware how many insects they uncon- 
sciously swallow," is somewhat relieved later on 
by being told that these " buggy peas " contain, 
in the first instance, a minute whitish grub, 
which larva is changed to a pupa within its hole 
in the pea in the autumn, and before spring 
casts its skin again, becoming a beetle {Bruchus 
Pzst), only to fly out into the awaiting maw 
of the crow-blackbird ! " Buggy peas," I admit, 
do not sound appetizing at first hearing ; still, 
were we to draw the line at such trifles, I fear 
our vegetable diet would necessarily be greatly 
restricted. So long as we eat the insects with 



2 2 STfce ©fartien's Storj). 

the special vegetables they infest, there can be 
but little objection. The strawberry and rasp- 
berry parasites are, certainly, exceptions ; for no 
one could taste and swallow more than one of 
either, and live to tell the tale. The mushroom- 
worm, the cabbage-louse, the lettuce-hopper, the 
Brussels-sprout thrip, and dozens of other jump- 
ing, wriggling things which the cook sends to 
table, possess invariably the exact flavor of the 
several vegetables they garnish. It would only 
be by serving the wrong or foreign insects with 
a particular dish that any gastronomical syncre- 
tism could result. The argujnentum ad g id am 
advanced for the existence of the crow-black- 
bird is, therefore, untenable, and I fail to dis- 
cover any excuse for allowing him to usurp the 
place of the starling, with whom he is forever 
quarreling. 

Another blanket of snow has been heaped 
upon us, just as the previous vestiges had dis- 
appeared and there were hopes of an end to 
the interminable hibernation. It was a halting 
philosopher who termed snow the poor man's 
manure, for want of a proper definition. The 
ammonia it contains one might better be with- 
out at this season, when every shrub, plant, and 
grass-blade is crying for the caress of the rain. 
Apparently the snow came from the asperous 



Kn ^ntfcipatfon. 23 

east. I have wondered why the east wind 
should be so unkind, coming, as it does, from 
lands sentient with sunshine and steeped in 
tropic warmth. A wind like Ruskin's " plague- 
wind, made of dead men's souls — such of them 
as are not gone yet where they have to go, and 
may be flitting hither and thither, doubting 
themselves of the fittest place for them." I find 
the east wind has been grossly maligned ; it is 
the west wind that bears the venom of Boreas and 
the stratus-cloud in its icy breath, surging on an 
upper current of the atmosphere, and coming 
only in appearance from the east on a counter 
under-current of air. The Rocky Mountains are 
the real seat of the dreaded "easterly" storm, 
and they — not the east wind — desen^e our strict- 
ures. 

In point of viciousness and duration the pres- 
ent equinox exceeds any other I have known. 
The chanticleer on my neighbor's house-top has 
been whisking seemingly from each point of the 
compass at once ; and every variety of weather, 
from an east wind bitter as quassia to the most 
brutal of westerly blizzards, has raged unremit- 
tingly for six days. I defy even Sir Admiral 
Fitzroy to forecast the weather from so hetero- 
geneous a horoscope — a combination of winds 
that has blown evil to me and good to my al- 



24 STije CKartren'sf <Stors. 

lopathic doctor, whom I shall exchange for a 
homoeopathist if I survive to undergo another 
vernal equinox in this latitude. Without a word 
of warning, I awoke in the night with the sensa- 
tion of having been pounded in a mortar, and 
with a Spanish chestnut-burr sticking in my 
throat. I never realized before what the inno- 
cent-looking yellowish mixture was that he pre- 
scribed for the children — potash and iron — with 
which he has been deluging me almost hourly, 
night and day. A doctor ought to be exiled for 
forcing such revolting stuff upon helpless pa- 
tients — a remedy which is almost worse than 
the disease. Hugh Miller's " Testimony of the 
Rocks," or Borden Bowne's " Studies in The- 
ism," would be a delicious lenitive, in compari- 
son. If I live, I shall find out whether his state- 
ment is true : that it is the great catholicon for 
diphtheritic and laryngeal troubles, and that 
nothing else can disperse the dusky spots on 
one's throat, or cause the white ones to " ex- 
foliate," as he pathologically expresses it. It 
was an exhilaration to me, with all sense of 
taste and smell temporarily destroyed through 
his vile prescription, to learn that he had an 
allopathic doctor under- treatment, and was dos- 
ing him in the same wholesale manner that he 
was medicating and mending me. 



5Jn Anticipation. 25 

I shudder when I think of the books I ought 
to "assimilate," directly and indirectly, in con- 
nection with the subject of gardening. Think 
of it ! Darwin's " Vegetable Mold and Earth- 
worms," Dyer's " Natural History of a Flow- 
ering Plant," Harris's "Talks on Manures," 
Warder's " Hedges and Evergreens," Darwin's 
"Climbing Plants," Berthold Seemann's "Re- 
vision of the Natural Order Hederaceae," Ben- 
tham and Hooker's " Genera Plantarum ad Ex- 
emplaria imprimis in Herbariis Kewensibus ser- 
vata definita," Loudon, Downing, Lindley — there 
is, apparently, no end to them. 

The illustrations of the unabridged diction- 
aries, too, that one is forced to encounter ; the 
cuts of the snakes and the reptiles that are coiled 
around every other page of a book one is com- 
pelled to read ! One always opens the diction- 
ary at the snake pages, or is confronted with a 
growling peccary, a hooded basilisk, a Mephitis 
Americana, or open-mouthed crocodile, to pro- 
mote a shiver that is liable to develop into bron- 
chitis. The most barbarous words, likewise, 
seem always placed at the top of the page in 
staring capitals — medical and scientific terms 
one must perforce swallow, even though the 
dose be nauseating. The " serpent and lizard 
appear to be the favorites of the lexicogra- 
4 



26 5rt)e ejarljen's StotP. 

phers ; I find no cut of the fruit which tempted 
Eve. As to the flower and tree illustrations, 
the representations that have served to portray 
Liliiim bulbiferuin, the magnolia, and the weep- 
ing-willow, are past praying for. They have all 
done valiant duty, and deserve to be placed upon 
the retired list with a liberal pension. 

The gardener has just called, bringing the 
cut flowers and his summary resignation at the 
same time. He, too, has caught the spring 
fever and desires a change. How we will miss 
his Brussels-sprouts and endive. He was worth 
having for his success in vegetables alone ; he 
knew enough to cut asparagus close to the 
ground without being told, and his heads of 
cauliflower were so delicious au gratin ! What 
is to become of all the spring work, meanvvhile, 
which comes upon one so suddenly when it final- 
ly does come } Think of all the flower-borders 
that have to be uncovered, the leaves to be raked 
up and carried to the pile of leaf-mold, the 
spring-manuring and spading, the seed-sowing 
and pruning, the lawn-raking and rolling, and 
the general cleaning and overhauling ! If I take 
a hand in it myself, there is always the danger 
of catching cold, and not for worlds would I 
undergo another medication. I must get Cas- 
per, the former German gardener, back again. 



Kn Anticipation. 27 

What if he did let the greenhouse plants be- 
come a prey to the red spider? — he was always 
so good-humored, and accomplished so much ! 
Your short, burly, broad-backed gardeners some- 
how always work easily and quickly ; they have 
not so far to bend over; the weeds jump up to 
them, and they handle a rake as if it loved them. 
A Mecklenburger for work and an Irishman for 
blarney. 

The long-awaited change has come at last — 
the promise the wild geese flying north chorused 
from the upper air. Song-sparrow, bluebird, 
meadow-lark, plover, and redv.ing have dropped 
down suddenly and simultaneously from the sky, 
and from the swamps I hear the croaking of the 
frogs, eager to drink of the first warm rain. The 
scarlet maple {Acer rubrum) is bursting into 
bloom, and one can almost see the grass sprout- 
ing, so thirstily does it absorb the moisture. 
The woodcock have already returned to their 
summer haunts ; I found them on the dry knolls 
March 25th. Referring to the record of the past 
eighteen years, the tables show that an early 
spring occurs about every other year in this vi- 
cinity. In 1880 the robin appeared February 
27th ; the bluebird and song-sparrow a day later. 
In 1874 and 1878 they appeared simultaneously 
March 3d, compared with March 27th, 28th, and 



28 



E\tz ffiartien's Storw. 



29th in 1885. In 1880 and 1882 the scarlet 
maple blossomed March 2d; in 1872, 1873, and 
1879, April loth; in 1885, April 20lh. The 
earliest pipings were sounded from the marshes 
March 9th in 1877 and 1878; the latest, April 
20th in 1885 and April 14th in 1874. The earli- 
est high temperatures recorded were those of 
March 31, 1875, 69°; March 27, 1882, 64°; 
April 23, 1885, 90°. 

Compared with previous seasons, therefore, 
the present has been no worse than the average. 
One must needs be grateful for the meager pit- 
tance March doles out in the way of blue skies 
and stray shadows on the garden dial. The last 
few days of the month have been prodigal of 
sunlight; and see, the urn of the first crocus 
already flaunts its hoarded gold to herald the 
feturning flowers of spring ! 





%n (Outline of tljc (Sarbcn. 



Every wyse man that wysely would learn anything, shall 
chiefly go about that whereunto he knoweth well that he shall 
never come. In every crafte there is a perfect excellency 
which may be better known in a man's mind than followed in 
a man's deede. This perfectnesse, because it is generally layed 
as a broad, wyde example afore all men, no one particular 
man is able to compasse. — Roger Ascham. 





II. 



AN OUTLINE OF THE GARDEN. 




,OGER ASCHAM might have alluded 
to gardening when he penned the 
foregoing lines. The art of garden- 
ing is comparatively easy in theory ; its consum- 
mation is more difficult in the soil. And it is 
not unlikely we shall find the author of " The 
Scholemaster " easier to read between the lines 
than appears at first sight, in the interval that 
shall, elapse between the matins of the first 
snow-drop bells and the vespers from the last 
monk's- hood spire. 

I write of the hardy flower-garden. This 
may be large or small, though, beyond a certain 
indispensable area, its perfected beauty depends 
not so much upon mere size as upon intelligent 
treatment. A small plot properly laid out, judi- 
ciously planted, and kept in finished order, will 
produce more satisfactory results than ten times 



32 2rf)e eSartien's Stori). 

the space poorly cultivated and insufficiently 
maintained, It is essentially a garden maxim, 
that whatever is worth doing at all is worth 
doing well. So that, first of all, the grounds 
should be no larger than can be properly looked 
after. Grass-grown walks, untrimmed edgings, 
a lawn run to weeds, at once proclaim the un- 
tidy gardener, and detract from the best efforts 
of the flowers themselves. I do not speak of 
the stiff, formal garden, divided into methodical 
squares, where everything must be equally bal- 
anced ; or of " bedding-out," " carpet," or "rib- 
bon " gardening. I speak of the hardy flower- 
garden, where, in its effect as a whole, a sense 
of tidiness combined with natural grace of out- 
line and harmony of grouping should prevail. 
If the space be too large to be perfectly main- 
tained, diminish it ; but let whatever space there 
may be under cultivation suffer no neglect or 
show no parsimony of care. 

No arbitrary rules will suffice to produce a 
perfect garden, for, in the very nature of things, 
no two gardens can be just alike. Each one 
should seek his own expression in the combina- 
tion he strives for. For this there exists infinite 
variety of material, adaptable to the particular 
soil, exposure, and character of the space one 
would adorn and idealize. A charming feature 



Mn ©utlfne of tf)e CKartren. ^^ 

of one garden may not be allowable in another, 
either through lack of space, difference of expo- 
sition, or natural incongruity. Thus, a minia- 
ture pond for the cultivation of bog-plants — a 
delightful feature of the garden where it may be 
carried out — can not be introduced with propri- 
ety on high exposures. Nor can a bank of ferns 
be placed to advantage where they have not the 
coolness and shade with which they are asso- 
ciated, and without which they can not be satis- 
factorily grown. In a large place, possessing the 
resources of abundant shade and variety of sur- 
face, there are few desirable effects which can 
not be produced. Here the landscape-gardener 
proper has a field for the practice of his art, and 
the proprietor an occasion for the gratification of 
his taste. In small grounds, however, as distin- 
guished from the large estate, one need not be a 
Croesus to enjoy the pleasures of gardening. 
There is force in Bacon's statement : " A man 
shall ever see that, when ages grow to civility 
and elegance, man comes to build stately sooner 
than to garden finely ; as if gardening were the 
greater perfection." And yet, with the wonder- 
ful advancement of the arts in this country dur- 
ing the latter part of this century of progress, 
the art of gardening, it must be admitted, has 
also shown marked improvement. Occasionally 



34 ^5^ ^artien's Storj). 

we find those who are content with a geranium- 
bed as the means of outward embellishment ; 
more often a finer perception of external adorn- 
ment is manifested, though Bacon's statement 
remains apposite to - day. The objectionable 
forms of gardening, however, are being super- 
seded by a more natural style — a revival of the 
old-fashioned hardy flower-borders, masses of 
stately perennials, the hardy fernery, the rock 
and bog garden, the azalea and rhododendron 
beds. Poor indeed is the city veranda which 
has not its Clematis 'Jackina7ii to flutter the 
purple of royalty, and lonely the door-yard with- 
out its clump of madonna lilies or perpetual 
roses. A comparison of the flower-catalogues 
of to-day with those of fifteen years ago shows 
beyond contradiction the advancement of the 
cultivation of hardy plants. Notably the case 
with new varieties of roses and flowering shrubs, 
progress is also observable with perennial flow- 
ers. The tendency of the age to cast aside poor 
for better forms, to resurrect or improve the old, 
includes the flower-garden among the many 
things to feel its quickening influence. Material 
we have in abundance ; it only remains for us to 
utilize it and adapt it to the ends in view. To 
create the ideal in landscape floriculture, to sur- 
round ourselves with lovely forms of nature, with 



^n <?^utlfnc of ti)e ©fartien. 35 

no discords to jar upon the sense of harmony, 
can only be attained by carrying out the sugges- 
tions of nature itself, applying them with all their 
possibilities of modification, change, and adapta- 
tion to the means we would attain. 

From the first, all appearances of stiffness 
and rigidity of outline, whether of walks, road- 
ways, or borders, will be studiously avoided. 
The natural line of beauty we should attempt to 
reproduce. The placing of ornamental trees 
and shrubs will depend on the situation and ex- 
posure ; the arrangement and grouping of flow- 
ers and foliage-plants, on one's sense of color and 
correct interpretation of effects. 

I hke the hardy shrub border, the low-grow- 
ing and comparatively less robust shrubs, for a 
screen next the highway ; for no garden, I think, 
can be satisfactory without privacy. " Glimpses 
of the interior may be afforded the passer-by, 
but retirement and shade constitute two of the 
greatest charms of the garden. The hardy shrub 
border combines privacy and beauty. In it I 
w^ould have, among others, for the larger sub- 
jects, the Japan quinces ; many of the Deutzias ; 
the common barberry, for its colored fruit in au- 
tumn ; the purple-leaved, for its effective foliage ; 
the light-colored althaeas, or rose of Sharon ; the 
Calycanthus, or sweet-scented shrub, for its fra- 



36 STije CSartren's Stotu. 

grance ; the large-flowered and changeable hy- 
drangea ; the dwarf and golden-leaved syringas, 
or mock-orange ; the double-flowering Prunus ; 
the spiraeas in variety ; the fragrant Ribes, or 
yellow flowering currant ; some of the small- 
er lilacs ; the dwarf sweet-scented Magnolia 
Halleana ; the Exochorda, the Daphne meze- 
reum, the variegated dogwood, the white Wei- 
gela, the purple-leaved plum, the cut-leaved su- 
mac, the golden, fern-leaved, and cut-leaved elder. 
Such strong-growing subjects as the For- 
sythias, the large magnolias, the snow-ball, and 
the lilac are apt to domineer ov-^er their compan- 
ions. If possible, they should be placed by 
themselves where they may have abundance of 
room to develop their full beauty. Even with 
most of the less robust examples I have enumer- 
ated, the pruning-knife must be applied at the 
proper season, to keep them shapely and within 
bounds. It should always be remembered that 
each shrub has its characteristic habit of growth. 
This should be retained, so far as possible. To 
trim all shrubs alike, is to ruin their beauty and 
mar their natural grace of outline. Judicious 
pruning, to promote health and vigor, is neces- 
sary. Old growth requires thinning out occa- 
sionally, and obtrusive root-sprouts and suckers 
need to be removed. Althaeas, spiraeas, lilacs, and 



^n ©utlfnc of t!)e ©^artjcn. 37 

honeysuckles may be trimmed early in spring. 
Deutzias, Forsythias, mock-oranges, and Wei- 
gelas flower on the wood of the preceding year's 
growth, and should be pruned after June flower- 
ing, when the old wood may be shortened or cut 
out. Evergreens may be pruned in April or 
May, to thicken the growth and preserve shape. 
Happily, the practice of shaving trees and shrubs, 
the art of " verdant sculpture," is less common 
than formerly. Legitimately used to assist 
Nature, the pruning-knife becomes a valuable 
assistant ; too often it is the means of destroy- 
ing identity of form. 

Of the scores of Weigelas or Diervillas under 
cultivation, I know of fev/ to be recommended 
for the choice collection of hardy shrubs. For 
the most part the flowers are of a displeasing 
color, while the shrub takes up a large space 
which, with the " rose-colored " kinds, might be 
occupied to far better advantage. 

For the dwarfer shrubs and plants of the 
hardy shrub border I should employ such sub- 
jects as the tree and herbaceous pasonias, the 
large perennial phloxes, the two forms of the 
Japanese anemone, and some of the taller lilies. 
The tall and hardy reed-like grasses —^rm«- 
thus raveniicB, Eulalia japonica and its varie- 
ties — may be used with good effect in both the 



38 E\)t ©fartien's Storii. 

shrub and flower border, though still more strik- 
ing by themselves. 

The width of the shrubbery border should 
depend upon its length, and also upon the ex- 
tent of space between the highway and the resi- 
dence. Very wide borders, where the frontage 
of a place is not deep, contract the grounds and 
curtail the expanse of lawn. Judicious planting 
becomes the more necessary the wider the bor- 
der, or large patches of bare ground will obtrude. 
Very long, narrow borders are equally objection- 
able, and have a stinted look. 

I take it for granted the lawn will receive 
the consideration it deserves. Undoubtedly the 
most important element of beauty of the grounds, 
without it all other forms of embellishment go for 
little. Green is the natural relief of floral color ; 
and in no way does floral color stand revealed 
so vividly as when set off by a perfect sward. 
To form a perfect lawn, 

ful thikke of gras, ful softe and swete, 

requires pains. The soil must neither be too 
poor nor too rich, but contain a sufficient depth 
of good garden soil to insure against drying out 
during hot weather. Above all, earth removed 
in excavating, usually composed of clay or gravel, 
should never be used for surface soil, as is not 



^n ©utime of tt)c CSarticn. 39 

unfrequently the case. Jealous guard should be 
kept, when sewer or other excavations are made 
at any time, that the subsoil be not left upon the 
surface, or dry grass patches will invariably show 
themselves with the first hot weather. 

With what grasses should the turf be formed ? 
This has been answered a great many times in 
a great many ways. Assuming that the sower 
knows precisely what kind of seed he would sow, 
the difficulty arises of procuring pure seeds of 
the species desired ; the only sure way is to have 
the seeds tested by an expert. I quote two au- 
thorities on the best grasses for the lawn. 

W. J. Beal : " Two sorts of fine Agrostis are 
sold under the trade name of Rhode Island bent, 
and, as trade goes, we may consider ourselves 
lucky if we get even the coarser one. The finest, 
a little the finest — Agrostis canina — is a rather 
rare, valuable, and elegant little grass, which 
should be much better known by grass farmers 
as well as gardeners than it is. The grass usu- 
ally sold as Rhode Island bent is Agrostis vul- 
garis, the smaller red-top of the East and cf 
Europe. This makes an excellent lawn. Agros- 
tis canina has a short, slender, projecting awn 
from one of the glumes : Agrostis vulgaris lacks 
this projecting awn. In neither case have we 
in mind what Michigan and New York people 



40 2ri)e ©i^arTien's .Storg. 

call red-top. This is a tall, coarse native grass, 
often quite abundant on low lands, botanically 
Agrostis alba. Sow small red-top, or Rhode 
Island bent, and June grass (Kentucky blue- 
grass, if you prefer that name), Poa pratensis. 
If in the chaff, sow in any proportion you fancy, 
and in any quantity up to four bushels per acre. 
If evenly sown, less will answer ; but the thicker 
it is sown the sooner the ground will be covered 
with fine green grass. We can add nothing else 
that will improve this mixture, and either alone 
is about as good as both. Under no circum- 
stances sow a little oats or rye ' to protect the 
young grass.' Instead of protecting, they will 
rob the slender grasses of what they most need." 
Daniel Batchelor : "As to the grasses best 
adapted to soils and situations, it may first be 
said that a wet soil is hardly to be considered as 
a fit situation for a lawn ; nevertheless, there are 
places where a moist condition of the soil can 
not well be avoided, and for such the best grasses 
are Poa trivialis, or rough-stalk meadow-grass ; 
Alopecarus pratensis, or meadow fox-tail ; and 
Agrostis vulgaris, or red-top. For average good 
soil I have had the best results from a seeding, 
in about equal proportions, of Poa pratensis, 
or Kentucky blue-grass ; Festuca duriscula, or 
hard fescue ; Agrostis canina, or creeping bent ; 



^n ©utlfne of tfje ©^artien. 41 

Cynosuris cristatus, or crested dog's-tail ; and 
Lolium Paceyi, or Pacey dwarf rye-grass. The 
two last named are especially adapted to light, 
dry soils, as they are deep-rooted and very 
fibrous, and will continue green in the driest 
of weather, even when the Kentucky blue is ap- 
parently dead. I may here state that there are 
hundreds of bushels of English rye grass-seed 
imported and sold for Pacey's dwarf rye, but it 
is a cheat, as the former is not hardy in our cli- 
mate. Pacey's is quite a hardy variety, and is, 
I think, of Scottish origin ; at any rate, it is one 
of the best grasses for either lawn or sheep- 
pasture. 

" Some persons recommend, in mixtures, such 
grasses as the Festuca ovina, or sheep's fescue, 
and the Festuca tenuifolia, or slender fescue. 
I think that both of these are objectionable on 
fine lav/ns, as they grow erect and tufty, while 
the leaves are round, wiry, and sedge-like ; the 
color, too, of both is blue, especially that of the 
slender fescue ; and, altogether, these grasses 
look intrusive and patchy when contrasted with 
the flat, ribbon-shaped foliage of those I have 
ventured to name with approval." 

The addition of white clover to whatever 
grasses one may sow is a matter of individual 
preference. On some light soils it is a most 
5 



42 2rt)e CKartren's <Stor». 

valuable adjunct, if not a necessity, and many 
would not be without its sprightly presence. 
But of whatever grasses the lawn may consist, 
the necessity of drainage in low situations, and 
thorough preparation of the ground in all cases, 
will be readily conceded. It is only in good, 
well-drained soil that the finer grasses will re- 
main verdurous during the intense heats of mid- 
summer. Spring is doubtless preferable to au- 
tumn sowing, still, in cases where it can be 
done, it is a positive advantage to prepare the 
ground in autumn, and allow it to settle thor- 
oughly through the winter. The addition of a 
small per cent of lime at the outset is to be rec- 
ommended, except on thin, sandy soils. These 
should be fortified with a liberal supply of old 
manure and good loam and muck, with the ad- 
dition of a sprinkling of quicklime. Thorough 
rolling previous and subsequent to seeding is of 
prime importance. 

Once formed, it is a common error to sup- 
pose the lawn will take care of itself. A top- 
dressing of fine compost or some good com- 
mercial fertilizer should be applied at least once 
every other year early in the spring. Either is 
preferable to manure of any form, which is un- 
sightly. Fresh manure is especially to be avoid- 
ed, if for no other reason than the crop of weed- 



^n ©utlfnc of ti)e CKartren. 43 

seeds it contains. Inequalities of surface should 
be filled up with loam and freshly seeded, and 
the roller be thoroughly applied over the entire 
surface after raking. Always sow grass-seed 
liberally. It is a mistake to leave either a close 
or a heavy sward over winter. Cut too short, 
the grasses suffer; left too long, they are un- 
sightly and start slowly. The lawn should not 
be shorn closely or frequently the first year ; 
after that, frequent mowings are advantageous 
where the shorn grass is left to enrich the 
sward. Often the sweep of the lawn is spoiled 
by being too closely planted with trees or shrubs, 
frequently with both ; or by being cut up with 
flower-beds. While some shade is very desir- 
able, too much shade is injurious to the growth 
of grasses ; and close planting interferes with 
the sense of generous breadth which the lawn 
should impart. 

Even with all possible pains and precautions 
we are still without a perfect lawn. The grand 
army of weeds remains to be combated — per- 
ennial pests innumerable ; annuals which sow 
themselves a thousand- fold ; plantains voided by 
granivorous birds ; purslane traveling on wings 
of the wind ; dandelions, rooted deeply as in- 
gratitude ; sorrel, lover of sandy soil ; mouse- 
ear chickweed ; yarrow, daisies, mosses, lichen ; 



44 2rijc CRarTien's Stori). 

and that English sparrow among the weeds, 
crab-grass, whose maw is insatiable and whose 
worm never dies — all these fail not to appear at 
their appointed time. Persistent warfare with 
the gouge-knife is the only means of keeping 
down the perennials. The spreading, self-sow- 
ing annuals that creep along stealthily, under- 
mining the grasses, are less amenable to treat- 
ment, and frequently require to be dug up 
in patches, resodding or resowing the spots 
whence they were removed. All of these pests, 
unpleasant as they are, we would willingly ex- 
change for the crab-grass {Paspaluin sangui- 
nale), the bane of American lawns. This an- 
nual appears most disagreeably during August, 
at the time of its inflorescence, its brownish 
stems rising from large tufts, which crowd out 
the finer grasses, giving the sward the appearance 
of having been burred, and utterly ruining the 
appearance of the turf wherever it obtains a 
foothold. It revels in drought and hard-pan, 
and, like the horse-leech's daughters, cries out 
continually, " Give, give ! " Practically inexter- 
minable, the mower passes over its wiry stems, 
which cling to the ground and perfect their seed- 
sowing for another year. Good soil, abundant 
watering, and shade alone tend to check it. The 
only thing to be said in its favor, as distinguished 



^n ©utifnc of tijc ^articn. 45 

from other lawn pests, is its late appearance and 
comparatively short duration. 

Frequently ants and the white grub — the 
larval grub of the May-beetle {Lachnosterna 
fusca) — cause no little damage to the lawn. 
The latter is not satisfied with the intolerable 
annoyance he causes in the imago form by 
bumping against everything he sees, but already 
begins in the pupa stage to devour the roots of 
grasses and valuable plants, blighting everything 
his voracious mandibles seize upon for prey. 
Patches of dead and withered grasses proclaim 
his depredations, when the turf should be closely 
perforated with a metal rod to the depth of half 
a foot, pouring caustic lime into the openings, 
and resowing the surface a few days afterward. 

The ant is fond of building his cities on the 
sward. These may be destroyed by perforating 
the hills and pouring in a solution of crude car- 
bolic acid, composed of one pound of acid to 
two quarts of water. A gill of the hquid will 
suffice for an ant-hill. " Tobacco insecticide 
soap " is also efficacious. It is, moreover, excel- 
lent, when sufficiently diluted, for destroying 
ants where they have formed their hills in or 
about plants. We thus see that a fine, velvety 
sward, like very many other desirable things, 
has its price ; and that, to carry out Loudon's 



46 Ei)t C!5ar"ticn*s Storj. 

apothegm, " The basis of all landscape-garden- 
ing is good breadth of grassy lawn," calls for 
forethought, pains, and unflagging perseverance. 

After the lawn, the flower-border demands 
our attention. And here, especially, I repeat 
with emphasis the golden rule of the garden : 
That is worth doing well what is worth doing 
at all. Compare the sickly, starveling flowers, 
struggling for bare existence in beds choked 
with weeds, and baking in a crust of arid earth, 
with the luxuriant, well-grown plants which 
careful culture yields. In the one case, disap- 
pointment ; in the other, constant increase of 
beauty. " But I am no gardener, and Primrose 
employs a professional," is the reason often as- 
signed ; the important fact being lost sight of, 
that back of the gardener and all other garden 
operations lies the fundamental principle of 
floriculture — proper preparation of sozL The 
parable of the sower has also its application to 
the garden. 

A rich, friable loam is adapted to the re- 
quirements of the majority of border-flowers. 
Where the natural soil is stiff, clayey, or sandy, 
it is useless to expect satisfactory results, even 
with the most liberal manuring. Clay soils can 
only be rendered tractable by the addition of 
leaf-mold, sandv loam, and decomposed ma- 



Sn #utlfne of tf)c Sfartien. 47 

nure in sufficient quantity to render the soil free 
and elastic. Sandy soils should be treated with 
plenty of strong garden-loam, leaf-mold, and an 
abundance of old manure. It may be observed, 
in this connection, that a leaf-mold and compost- 
heap should form a part of the reserve garden. 
When leaf-mold is desired, it is often difficult 
and expensive to procure. The rakings of old 
leaves in autumn, and the leaves used for winter 
protection, left in a heap to decompose, will usu- 
ally suffice to keep up a sufficient supply. Prop- 
er drainage secured, the flower-border should be 
composed of surface soil to the depth of at least 
two feet. This will insure the roots a supply of 
moisture far below the surface. Treated thus 
at the beginnmg, the foundation will be perma- 
nent ; and, beyond sometimes forking in an au- 
tumnal top-dressing, we have done with the 
question of soil. I am aware that it is often the 
custom in England, where climate and skill pro- 
duce the highest results, to retrench and replant 
the flower-border every three or four years. 
This involves much labor, and disturbs number- 
less plants which do not like removal. It is far 
easier and better to separately lift or divide such 
plants as may have exhausted the soil, replant- 
ing them in fresh earth. 

No plan of gardening involving an expensive 



48 5ri)e CSartrcn's Stori}. 

annual effort can be satisfactory, even to those 
of abundant means. It should be the effort, 
therefore, to plant subjects that will be perma- 
nent, and increase in beauty from year to year. 
If a plant proves unsatisfactory from any cause, 
cast it aside. If its color clashes w^ith that of 
its immediate neighbors, shift it to some other 
position where it will not offend. It is almost 
impossible to plant a large collection without 
color discords. The various shades of red in 
juxtaposition are generally the most trying, and, 
often, effects 'can not be fully measured until 
flowering-time. In such cases it is best to im- 
mediately shift one or the other offender. If left 
until fall, even when a detailed garden memoran- 
dum is kept, the cause is apt to be mistaken or 
forgotten, to intrude itself another season. 

With comparatively few exceptions, trans 
plantmg may be effected even during the hottest 
weather by soaking the soil, lifting the plant 
with a ball, and replacing in soil which has been 
thoroughly watered. In dry weather the soak- 
ing must be thorough and repeated, so that the 
subject may be lifted with a good-sized ball, and 
little or no root-disturbance. This operation is 
best performed in the evening. In hot, sun- 
shiny weather the plant may be shaded for a 
few days until re-established. 



0n <B>utIinc of ti)e CKarticn. 49 

Often plants crowd each other ; too many 
species of similar habit occur side by side ; hur- 
ried spring- planting may place desirable subjects 
amid incongruous surroundings, and the sym- 
metry of the flower-border become disturbed. 
Its outline, shading, and harmony of color are 
naturally seen to the greatest advantage at the 
flowering season, and it is then that transplant- 
ing may be most intelligently performed. Cer- 
tain subjects, like lilies, daffodils, etc., must, of 
course, await their proper season for removal; 
and, where the subjects for shifting are numer- 
ous, cool, wet weather should be selected. I 
would not by any means appear to advocate 
summer transplanting, to the exclusion of spring 
and fall ; but where the position of individual 
plants is immediately offensive, or where they 
are unduly crowding each other, summer trans- 
planting is to be recommended. 

It is always advisable to have a reserve 
flower-patch to draw from, where subjects may 
be obtained to replace those that may fail or 
prove unsatisfactory, for the purpose of ex- 
change, or where masses of particular kinds are 
liable to be called for. Generally, a stock of 
desirable plants may be had by annual sowings 
and division. The seeds of some perennials 
germinate very slowly, and are often trying to 



50 srtje CKat"tien*!5 Stott>. 

raise. Much is to be gained with the majority 
by sowing as soon as the seeds are ripe, and 
wintering the slow-germinating kinds in a cold 
frame, pricking off when large enough, and 
planting out subsequently in their proper places. 
Not a few perennials spare us this trouble by 
sowing themselves ; many bloom the first year 
where sown early ; a large portion germinate 
slowly. In all cases, fresh seed insures the best 
results. Sow in light soil in shallow boxes, cov- 
ering with a light layer of moss to retain moist- 
ure, and wintering in the cold frame such spe- 
cies as do not develop sufficiently to plant out in 
autumn. Perennial seeds one should not de- 
spair of until well on to the second year after 
sowing. Many of them are in the habit of lying 
dormant for a year, In England seed-pans are 
usually kept dark, being moved into the light as 
soon as the seeds are up. Lichens, which clog 
the surface of the soil, do not grow in the dark. 
Annuals germinate readily, and cause little 
trouble. 

Another mode of propagation is by cuttings. 
These, taken from the plants just when growth 
begins, or after blooming, should be inserted in 
boxes or pots filled with a mixture of leaf-mold 
and sand, keeping them in a shaded frame until 
rooted ; then pot singly in three-inch pots, plant- 



^n ©utlinc of tf)c ©nrijcn. 51 

ing them out finally the following spring where 
desired. 

What flowers shall we plant, and how shall 
they be planted ? This will depend largely on 
the space to be filled, and on other considera- 
tions. Many, who are accustomed to be absent 
during the summer, will plant spring bloomers 
almost exclusively — a mistake, for this means 
bare borders during midsummer. Where one 
has a rock-garden, some plants, that otherwise 
might find a place in the borders, will be kept 
apart in this more proper situation. Where there 
is a hardy fernery, ferns will naturally be ex- 
cluded. There will also always exist a diversity 
of opinion regarding the merits of particular 
plants. Certain perfumes delightful to some are 
disagreeable to others ; while, so long as people 
exist who can endure magenta passively, we may 
never hope to exile such nightmares as Achillea 
rosea from the border, or some of the shades of 
the Cineraria from the greenhouse. All hardy 
plants, desirable and beautiful themselves, which 
will thrive in the soil and position chosen, and 
which are not so small as to be lost in the bor- 
der, may be used appropriately ; these will be 
alluded to specifically, later on, in their order of 
flowering. 

Experience will teach what not to plant bet- 



52 5ri)e ^ar"Oen*s Storj. 

ter than volumes of instruction. Usually, sub- 
jects that sucker and throw out strong, creeping 
root-stalks are objectionable. Do not introduce 
rows in the borders ; plants are not supposed to 
be on military review. Neither dot the ground 
at equal distances with the same subjects often 
repeated ; variety is the spice of the garden. 
Though the taller-growing subjects, as a rule, 
are best placed in the background, an occasional 
colony of large plants should be placed in the 
center, and some large individual specimens re- 
lieve the foreground. Massing, where too much 
space is not called for, is desirable, especially 
with medium-sized subjects ; though attention 
must be paid to selection, or large bare spaces 
after blooming will obtrude. Where daffodils 
are largely grown, summer and autumn flower- 
ing subjects, like the columbines and Japanese 
anemones, should be placed in close proximity, 
to fill the void left when the bulbs die down 
in summer ; or light-rooting subjects, like the 
lovely Iceland poppy and some of the finer small 
annuals, may be employed to take their place. 

The great secret of successful floriculture is 
continuity of bloom — a luxuriance of blossom from 
early spring to late autumn ; so that, when one 
species has flowered, there will at once be some- 
thing else to continue the blossoming period with- 



sin ©utline of ti)e <*5actien. 53 

out leaving unsightly gaps of bare ground. The 
necessity of placing plants intelligently will thus 
be readily apparent — the just apportioning of 
spring, summer, and autumn subjects with these 
several ends in view. Moderate shade is of ad- 
vantage to many flowers, but this should never 
be obtained from trees planted in the border 
itself. 

Plant permanently, mass boldly. Do not 
confine yourself to a few kinds when there is 
such a wealth to choose from — plants for sun- 
shine and plants for shade, plants for color and 
plants for fragrance, plants for spring and plants 
for autumn, plants for flower and plants for form. 
Aim at individuality, to produce an ideal of your 
own. Many half-hardy plants in the accepted 
sense can be grown by simply protecting them 
with leaves over winter. Plant for permanency 
lilies, irises, roses, delphiniums, phloxes, spiraeas, 
hemerocallis, narcissi, columbines, day lilies, her- 
baceous pasonias, bell-flowers, anemones, fraxi- 
nellas, perennial sunflowers, the great and less- 
er poppies, centaureas — the list is inexhaustible. 
Avoid coarse, weedy subjects, unless in special 
cases where habit may be compensated by bloom 
or special adaptation to situation ; these are usu- 
ally best placed by themselves m the distance or 
the rear garden. Many an old-fashioned coun- 



54 ^t)^ CKartren's Storj). 

try garden can teach us much on the subject 
of selecting proper border flowers. The flower- 
border may be raised very slightly, to insure per- 
fect drainage and to emphasize its contour, but 
never be so elevated as to cause over-dryness ; 
elevated beds and borders are designed for 
plants which do not require much moisture. 
The skillful planter will not forget to place 
showy subjects with reference to their effect 
from the interior of the house, so that the beau- 
ty of the garden may be admired from within 
during inclement weather. 

A garden may be rendered beautiful from 
early spring until late autumn with perennial 
flowers alone ; but it may be rendered still more 
attractive by the judicious use of many of the 
finer annuals, biennials, and foliage plants as 
well. By the term "judicious " I mean not only 
a use of annuals of merit, but annuals properly 
placed ; perennial flower-borders should consist 
in the main of perennial flowers. To cultivate 
hardy flowers it is not necessary to be an Asa 
Gray, though a knowledge of botany must always 
afford an ever-increasing satisfaction and pleas- 
ure. A love for flowers one must have : one 
can not be a Peter Bell in floriculture. 

Finally, the garden syllabus may also be 
written on two tables of stone : 



^\i (JDutlfnc of ti)e ©fartren. 55 

I. Whatever is worth growing at all is worth 
growing well. 

II. Study soil and exposure, and cultivate no 
more space than can be maintained in perfect 
order. 

III. Plant thickly ; it is easier and more 
profitable to raise flowers than weeds. 

IV. Avoid stiffness and exact balancing ; 
garden vases and garden flowers need not neces- 
sarily be used in pairs. 

V. A flower is essentially feminine, and de- 
mands attention as the price of its smiles. 

VI. Let there be harmony and beauty of 
color. Magenta in any form is a discord that 
should never jar. 

VII. In studying color-effects, do not over- 
look white as a foil ; white is the lens of the 
garden's eye. 

VIII. Think twice and then still think be- 
fore placing a tree, shrub, or plant in posi- 
tion. Think thrice before removing a speci- 
men tree. 

IX. Grow an abundance of flowers for cut- 
ting ; the bees and butterflies are not entitled to 
all the spoils. 

X. Keep on good terms with your neighbor j 
you may wish a large garden-favor of him some 
day. 



S6 



E\)t CKar)3cn's Stori). 



XI. Love a flower in advance, and plant 
something every year. 

XII. Show me a well-ordered garden, and I 
will show you a genial home. 








"?'\y 




'^\)c Spring tXlilb iTlotDers. 



Shall we be so forward to pluck the fruits of Nature and 
neglect her flowers ? These are surely her finest influences. 
So may the season suggest the thoughts it is fitted to suggest. 
. . . Let me know what picture Nature is painting, what po- 
etry she is writing, what ode composing now. — Thoreau. 





III. 



THE SPRING WILD FLOWERS. 




HE exhilarating sensation of the first 
warm late April day ! A new life in 
the sunshine, a sweeter breath in the 
south wind : the breath of green fields and re- 
animated woodlands ; the fresh, unctuous smell 
of the soil ! To it every living thing responds — 
the awaiting birds, the dry chrysalis, the impris- 
oned flowers. How merrily bluebird and mead- 
ow-lark ring out their welcome ! With what a 
rush Hepatica, bloodroot, spring beauty, and 
dog-tooth violet burst through the mold ! How 
all the wild, glad host of pulsating things seems 
eager to roll away the resurrection-stone ! 

I never see and feel the start of vegetation 
without recalling Remy Belleau's sixteenth-cent- 
ury lyric on April, which still exhales the very 
essence of spring — a lyric unsurpassed by any 
I am acquainted with on a similar theme. To 



6o 2r|)e CKartrcn's Storn. 

April the French poet assigns a place exalted 
above all the other months: " Avrzi, fkojineicr 
et des bois et des moisf" Unsurpassed in the 
original, the apostrophe is admirably rendered 
by Andrew Lang : 

April, pride of murmuring 

Winds of spring, 
That beneath the winnowed air 
Trap with subtle nets and sweet 

Flora's feet, 
Flora's feet, the fleet and fair. . . . 

Nothing could be more truly descriptive of the 
mad hurrying into life of the spring flora than 
the spirit and allegro throughout the poem. 

I think the first of inanimate wild life to 
pierce the ground is the well-known member of 
the aroids, the skunk-cabbage {Symplocarpus 
fcrtidus). A rank, foul, noxious weed, " a noi- 
some hermit of the marsh," it is usually consid- 
ered — surely an unjust stricture. It has a clean, 
wholesome smell, a pungent, growing, out-of- 
doors smell, with no taint of corruption. Greuze 
would have admired its lovely greens, and, I 
doubt not, a poet will yet be born to praise its 
rugged precocity, I have planted it in the rear 
garden, on the edge of the copse, as a wild foli- 
age-plant, just to watch its incurved horn and 
gigantic leaves expand. So long as we grow 



Ef}t Spriitfl tS!&iVts iFlotocrs. 6i 

the crown imperial, we can well overlook the 
odor of the great green aroid which so boldly 
ushers in the spring. 

The infinite shades of green which Nature 
has in her color-box ! I say nothing of the mar- 
velous greens of her twilight skies, or those of 
her streams and waters, but simply the greens 
of vegetation. There is another autumn of color 
in the spring foliage, so varied are the shadings 
of the buds and young leaves. Indeed, it is 
often difficult to tell where green begins or 
ceases, so interblended it is with reds and yel- 
lows. The different colors of the soil, too, what 
variety they present ! there is almost a rainbow 
in the clays alone ! I do not remember having 
noticed magenta in either foliage or soil. When 
Nature uses it in a flower, she is rather sparing, 
or gives it a proper foil of green to tone it down ; 
its wild, barbaric effect she leaves to frescoes, 
florist's cinerarias, and Bahadur rugs. 

Once started, the wild flowers succeed one 
another with astounding rapidity. The arbutus 
appears blushing almost beneath the snow, and 
so quickly is it followed by the many other early 
flowers that it becomes difficult to place them in 
their proper succession. A sheltered situation 
where the sun concentrates its warmth often 
calls out a species before its regular time, inter- 



62 2rf)c ffiartren's .Stotj). 

cepting earlier species in less favored localities. 
Many of the flowers that we shall meet in the 
swamps and woods will be found worthy of a 
conspicuous place in the garden. Few realize 
the richness of our native flora. Comparatively 
few are familiar with its infinite grace and beauty 
in its chosen haunts. Fewer still appreciate how 
many of our wild flowers thrive under proper 
cultivation, or how much they add to the charm 
of the garden. Nature shows us the effect of 
liberal planting and bold massing. The wood- 
lands hold no bare patches ; each flower is 
quickly succeeded by another. The ground 
now glowing with the little spring beauty {Clay- 
tonia Virginica) will soon be painted with vio- 
lets and Trillhnns ; and where the Hepaticas 
run riotously over the hill-side, ferns and flower- 
ing plants innumerable will take the place they 
have vacated. The Hepatica is one of the earli- 
est flowers to extend an invitation to the woods. 
It grows on sandy hill -sides, frequents open 
glades hides, in shady hollows, and, like Mont- 
gomery's daisy, " blossoms everywhere." In 
color it varies from a lovely blue to pure white, 
shading to lavender and a soft flesh-tint. The 
spring beauty is scarcely less charming, and is 
even more prodigal in moist places. Not sat- 
isfied with one color, its flower - clusters also 



assume several hues — white, with shadings of 
rose, and penciled with deeper-colored veins. 
There is another form of spring beauty (C. 
parviflord), from Oregon, equally free bloom- 
ing, which flowers later and spreads freely from 
seed. Besides these, I find five additional forms 
mentioned in the " Botanical Survey of the 
Fortieth Parallel." 

Whoever has been in the woods in early 
spring has met the bloodroot {Sanguhiaria 
Canadensis), with its white, star-shaped corolla, 
the delicately scented flowers preceding the 
large, kidney-shaped leaves. Its only fault is its 
ephemeral nature ; you scarcely obtain a glimpse 
of it ere it is gone. It belongs to the poppy- 
worts, nearly all of which are familiar with the 
Horatian refrain : 

Vitse surama brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam. 

I suppose many flowers, like many people, have 
their faults, if such they may be called. Even 
the arbutus, if born again, I think, would wish 
to appear with fresher leaves. 

When violets of every kind have jeweled 
the fields and meadows, and crept into the 
swamps and woods, there comes a sudden fall 
of snow. The great white flakes everywhere 
strew the ground, clustering round the beech- 



64 E\)z ^nxtitn'B Storg. 

boles, flecking the hill-sides, dotting the slopes — 
the chaste, pure triangles of the white wood-Hly 
{Trillium grandijlorum). Individual among 
flowers, the Trillium is scentless — lovely enough 
without perfume. To enjoy its full beauty, you 
should come suddenly upon it in its wild-wood 
home, or naturalize it with the bloodroot by the 
hundreds, under trees or in shady spots in the 
garden. It will hardly bear the shortest journey 
after cutting. If you would have it in the 
house, you should grow it in large potfuls, 
treating it like the narcissus. The English pro- 
nounce it one of the most beautiful of hardy 
plants, and I exchange it every year, with 
friends in Cheshire and Kent, for Horsfieldi 
daffodils. The purple variety {T erectum) often 
keeps it company. It is a jaunty flower at 
home, but somehow appears out of place under 
cultivation. T. erythrocarpum is a very pretty 
species, fluttering a small white corolla with a 
lively carmine eye. I found it swarming in the 
Adirondacks with the large white and purple 
varieties. 

In " Les Fleurs de Pleine Terre," which I 
opened by accident on page 1 1 5 1 , it is amusing 
to read, under " Trillium grandijiorimi,'' "The 
Trilliimis are curious rather than pretty plants, 
and rather delicate, perhaps." To have the 



2rt)e Spriitfl W^iVa JFlotoers. 65 

Trillitcm thus characterized provokes a smile. 
A strange flower it certainly is — its leaves, calyx, 
and corolla a triangle. In the same volume I 
find the bloodroot described as " curious and 
pretty " — a distinction with a difference. The 
Trillmm may be raised from seed — a much 
more tedious process than obtaining plants from 
the woods. It likes rich, deep leaf-soil and 
shade, requiring at least two years to become 
thoroughly established. Where T. grandiflo- 
rum is well grown, it often attains a height of 
nearly two feet. Not the least charm of this 
variety is its change to a soft rose-color — revers- 
ing the order of numerous flowers when they 
begin to fade. Indeed, variety and change of 
color in individual species is a characteristic of 
numerous spring flowers. 

If the majority of our native violets have little 
odor, many of the very abundant species possess 
at least a faint scent, just enough to suggest an 
odor. The large-leaved Viola cucullata, and 
many of the tiny-flowered species, belong to this 
class. The bird's-foot violet {V. pedata) is less 
common than we would wish, more especially its 
variety bicolor, both species and variety having 
a rich, pansy-like fragrance, and velvety, pansy- 
like petals. 

I do not think Bryant open to criticism for 



66 Effz ^artrcn's Storj). 

ascribing fragrance to liis yellow violet, blos- 
soming 

Beside the snow-bank's edges cold. 

The Violas are so associated with odor that it 
is difficult to think of any as entirely scentless. 
From the hosts of blue, purple, lavender, yellow, 
and white species that carpet the ground, and 
which, except the white bla7ida, are usually con- 
sidered odorless, there certainly does arise a per- 
ceptible fragrance, perhaps best described by 
Bryant as a " faint perfume." Lorenzo de' 
Medici, a distinguished gardener and floricultur- 
ist himself, tells us in sonnet-form how the vio- 
let came blue. Originally white, Venus, seeking 
Adonis in the woods where it grew, stepped 
upon a thorn, which, piercing her foot, caused 
the purple drops to fall upon the flowers — 

Tingeing the luster of their native hue. 

Shakespeare's violet was V. odorata, com- 
mon in Europe and in many portions of Great 
Britain. " Viola odorata flowers all winter, but 
chiefly in March ; the typical color is a deep 
purple-blue," Rev. Wolley Dod, of Cheshire, 
writes me ; " it is not unlike indigo-dye, but in 
gardens there is every shade, down to pure 
white, the latter being, I think, the sweetest of 
all." The passage in which the violet figures 



2rt)e <Sprfnii HlWilti J^lotoers. 67 

most conspicuously, most beautifully, in litera- 
ture, is too well known to be repeated. We can 
readily comprehend the comparison to Cytherea's 
breath ; but the reference to color — if reference 
to color was really intended — is less apparent on 
close analysis. Why, in the first place, should 
the lids of the goddess be singled out rather 
than the orbs themselves, which Shakespeare 
might have stamped indelibly a violet-blue? Un- 
fortunately, we have no data to fix the precise 
hue of Juno's eyelids, but we would naturally 
presuppose them to be dark. The old French 
abbe-philosopher, Brantome, who, it must be 
conceded, is excellent if somewhat plain-spoken 
authority on all that appertains to the charms of 
lovely woman, specifies, in the " Vies des Dames 
Galantes," at the conclusion of his second dis- 
course, " De la Veue en Amour," that, among 
the thirty essentials which go to compose a su- 
premely beautiful woman, there must of neces- 
sity be three black (^roz's closes noires) — the 
eyes, the eyebrows, and the eyeHds : 

Trot's choses blanches : la peau, les dents et les 
mains. 

Trots noires : les yeux, les sourcils et les paupieres. 
Trots rouges : les levres, les joues et les ongles. 
Trots longues : le corps, les cheveux et les mains. 
Trois court es : les dents, les oreilles et les pieds, 



68 srtje €Jartrcn*s Stori>. 

Trois larges : le sein, le front et I'entre-sourcil. 

Trois estroites : la bouche, la ceinture et I'entree 
du pied. 

Trois grosses : le bras, la cuisse et le gros de la 
jambe. 

Trois deliees : les doigts, les cheveux et les levres. 

Trois petttes : les tetins, le nez et la teste. 

Sont tretiie en tout. 

Dark eyelids — a dark purple, rarely the typical 
violet hue — are a well-known mark of feminine 
beauty. Cleopatra's eyes must have flashed 
over them ; and we know the fair Georgians of 
the East, who do not come by them naturally, 
use k'hol to produce the languorous charm 
they are supposed to impart. Still, this does 
not satisfactorily explain the Shakespearean 
analogy — 

Violets di7n, but sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes. 

To carry out the comparison of the poet, who 
distinctly qualifies the color as " dim," Bran- 
tome's beauty-mark will scarcely apply in its 
literal sense. Possible allusion to fragrance is 
out of the question ; it must, then, refer to some 
other sense — either to that of sight or feeling — 
the term sweeter being employed for lovely, or 
to denote softness to the touch. Let us, there- 
fore, look deeper into the eye of woman. A kiss 
upon the eyelids — and for this we do not require 



2rf)e ^priiTfl W&ills iFlotocrs. 69 

Gallic authority — is pronounced one of the sweet- 
est thing's of life. This theory, then, may fur- 
nish the key to the passage ; it is to the qualifi- 
cation " sweeter," in the sense of softer, not to 
the color-definition, that we must seek for its 
intended significance. On the other hand, if im- 
petuous Jove kissed Juno, as there is every rea- 
son to suppose he did, we must conclude that he 
preferred roses to violets, and kissed her on the 
mouth, and not on the eyelids. Clearly, this is a 
subtle ruse of Shakespeare, all the more abstruse 
from its lovely imagery, and is only another case 
of " The Lady or the Tiger." 

Passing from the " Winter's Tale " to the 
" Country Churchyard," the verse printed in two 
editions of Gray, and then expunged from the 
" Elegy," presents itself : 

There scattered oft, the earUest of the year, 
By hands unseen, are showers of violets found ; 

The redbreast loves to build and warble here, 
And little footsteps lightly print the ground. 

Why Gray should have canceled this exquisite 
stanza is inconceivable. It is the relief, the very 
flower of the ode — the one expression of loving- 
kindness and human sympathy to diffuse warmth 
and fragrance over the tomb. 

Finally, before taking leave of the violet, I 
wonder if a resemblance of two poems, to which 



70 Efft ©fartren's Storj. 

the spring flower's fragrance clings, has been 
noticed ? I refer to Collins's ode " On Fidele 
supposed to be Dead," and Oliver Wendell 
Holmes's verses " Under the Violets." Both are 
pervaded by a pathos equally tender, the meter 
being alike, except the added fifth line of the 
latter. Though a similarity will be observed, 
consisting rather in meter, pathos, and sentiment 
than in any direct expression, it is not difficult to 
pronounce upon the comparative merits of the 
two poems. Viewed by posterity, assuredly 
Holmes's will be regarded as the richer, the 
more finished ode : 

To fair Fidele's grassy tomb 

Soft maids and village hinds shall bring 

Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, 
And rifle all the breathing spring. 

The redbreast oft at evening hours 

Shall kindly lend his little aid, 
With hoary moss, and gathered flowers, 

To deck the ground where thou art laid. 

Collins. 



For her the morning choir shall sing 
Its matins from the branches high, 

And every minstrel-voice of spring 
That trills beneath the April sky, 
Shall greet her with its earliest cry. 



5ri)e ,Sprfnij ?K!^flti iFlolucvs. 71 

At last the rootlets of the trees 

Shall find the prison where she lies, 

And bear the buried dust they seize 
In leaves and blossoms to the skies ; 
So may the soul that warmed it rise. 

Holmes. 

While the violets are yet in the hey-day of 
their beauty, there is no lack of other vernal 
flowers. The adder's-tongue {Erytkrom'um 
Americanufri), almost first to dart its sharp 
purple spathe through the ground, appears in 
legions. The warmth has brought out the 
brown spots upon the now clouded gray leaves. 
Presently will appear its nodding, tulip-scented 
yellow blossom, revolute in the sunshine. Sin- 
gularly, the adder's-tongue has its two leaves of 
equal length, but one almost double the width of 
the other. I do not find this dog-tooth violet a 
satisfactory subject to naturalize ; it has a rag- 
ged look out of its native quarters, and even there 
it is not always as free-flowering as we would 
wish. The robust variety, E. grandiflortcm, 
arid the large, white form, E. gzganteum, from 
the Rocky Mountains, are far more beautiful. 
A variety named E. Hendersonii, with lilac flow- 
ers and a central purple blotch, edged with yel- 
low, discovered very recently in Oregon, is said 
to be the finest of the genus. 



72 2r|)e ^artien's Storj). 

Little later than the adder's-tongue comes 
the lung-wort {Mertensia Virginicd), pretty in 
the blue and lilac shades of its drooping flowers, 
and almost equally beautiful in the rich, dark 
purple of the early leaves. The large blue flag 
{Iris versicolor), an inhabitant of wet places in 
woods, meadows, and along streams, is a hand- 
some subject for naturalizing where it can ob- 
tain the necessary moisture. Soon the little 
Dutchman's breeches {Dicentra cucularia) will 
disclose its curious spurred flower, and the 
columbine {Aquilegia Canadensis) plume the 
rocks and enliven the dry places with its pendu- 
lous scarlet-yellow blossoms. The wild crane's- 
bill {Geranium maculatum) is usually found 
with the columbine, both being fond of places 
where the Hepatica has preceded them. 

Jack-in-the-pulpit {AriscEina triphyllu77t) I 
regard as the coarsest of the aroids, not fit to 
associate with refined flowers ; it looks more like 
a snake than a flower. The name — Jack-in-the- 
pulpit — sounds well, and doubtless has helped 
it to retain popular favor. Female botanizing 
classes pounce upon it as they would upon a 
pious young clergyman. But it is an arrant pre- 
tender, and should be called by its proper name, 
" Indian turnip," which befits it well. Let it 
pass for what it is worth, and pose not as a 



3r!)e Sptfnfl ^Wilti JFloUjers. 73 

flower but as a carminative — its only virtue. 
" Parson-in-the-pulpit " they call the wild Arum 
in Great Britain. At Mentone, on the Riviera, 
the flowers of one of the aroids {Arum arisa- 
rum) are termed Capucclni, in allusion to the 
brown-cowled brethren of a neighboring- cloister. 

The bell-wort {Uvularia grandifiord), al- 
though far from being a monstrosity, is another 
plant that makes the most of its name. Un- 
attractive, it is not hideous ; neither is it brazen, 
like the Indian turnip. Instead of thrusting 
itself forward and demanding attention, it is 
rather graceful, hanging its head as if conscious 
of its dingy yellow. Its smaller sister, the dark, 
sessile-leaved bell-wort, is much prettier. On 
account of its creeping, deep-rooting rhizome, it 
should be avoided in the rock-garden, where it 
soon becomes troublesome. 

In woods and on shaded hill-sides the rue 
anemone {Thalictruin anejnonozdes) is conspic- 
uous — a dainty plant, with delicate foliage, and 
graceful white flowers assuming a blush tinge 
in some localities. It increases under culture, 
thriving both in shade and sunshine. A double 
form, which is in cultivation, is said to be even 
preferable to the common variety. 

Now the shad-blow {Ai7ielanchier Canaden- 
sis) has lighted its chandeliers and silvered the 
7 



74 STlje ffiartren's ^torg. 

edges of the woods. It has seemingly a wild 
grace of its own, being seldom equally branched 
on all sides, but leaning its feathery sprays far 
over the woodland's edge. This is the case only 
where it is crowded ; for isolated trees, in nature 
or under cultivation, do not possess this habit, 
one of its charms in the woods. I have always 
envied those who can enjoy the white alder, or 
sweet pepper-bush {Clethra alnifolia), whose 
midsummer fragrance hangs like incense over 
the thickets where it grows. In August I should 
be willing to exchange it for the Amelajichier, 
only to regret it in May. The shad-blow has 
scarcely vanished ere the dogwood {Cornus fio- 
ridci) succeeds it as torch-bearer. A very much 
larger white flower, or, strictly speaking, invo- 
lucre, it is scarcely more brilliant from a dis- 
tance. It is far more distinct on close approach, 
and one would have to think twice to decide to 
which the preference should be accorded. I 
love the shad-blow, because it is first to appear ; 
and the dogwood, not only for its beautiful in- 
florescence, but for its brilliant red berries and 
glorious autumnal hues. 

The dogwood is still in majestic bloom when 
the wild thorns add their tribute to the flowering 
pageant. Perhaps the thorn seems the showiest 
of the three, because it so often occurs as an 



2ri)e SprfiTfl J^ilti iFlotocrs. 75 

isolated specimen. It has a pleasant way of 
surprising one, peering at you over precipitous 
banks, suddenly springing from some lonely hol- 
low, or startling you by its snowy whiteness on 
some meadow or pasture. Have you wondered 
at the symmetry of many of these patriarchal 
pasture thorns ? — the cattle have manipulated 
the pruning-shears. I think a gnarled old thorn, 
standing sentinel over a hill-pasture, the most 
picturesque of trees. For a century, perhaps, it 
has buffeted the wintry blasts, and escaped the 
shafts of the lightning, still to simulate perpet- 
ual youth in its perpetual bloom. The ground 
around it has been worn and trodden by count- 
less hoofs ; and on sweltering midsummer days 
the cattle ruminate, and lash their tails, beneath 
its woof of shade. It is the next thing to the 
shaded stream with white water-lily cups to keep 
it cool. 

You look for the shad-blow with the snowy 
drifts of the Trillium and the running yellow 
flames of the marsh-marigold {Caltha palus- 
tris)y that 

Shines like fire in swamps and hollows gray. 

Hamerton calls the leaves of the water-ranun- 
culus " the most beautiful of all greens in the 
world." Strange that he should have excluded 



76 E\)t CKarTren's Storn. 

the marsh-marigold, than whose glossy foliage 
nothing could be a lovelier, livelier green ! A 
" gay, glabrous green, with glazed and brilliant 
yellow flowers," the publication that reviled the 
Trillium describes it very prettily and correctly. 
The Caltha is common to France also, and a 
Frenchman can always paint a French flower 
artistically, whether a wildling or a duplicate 
new rose. There exists a double variety, and 
also a white Caltha, a Californian species. The 
water-ranunculus) R. aquatilis) is a common 
American plant. It grows submerged, and floats 
a shabby little white flower on the surface of the 
water. Concerning the color of its foliage, which 
Hamerton extols, a botanical friend suggests 
that artists are apt to be enthusiastic about tri- 
fling differences which ordinary mortals do not 
notice. Of the tenants of the brooks and streams, 
the greens of the common marsh or water cress 
can scarcely be exceeded in beauty when sway- 
ing with every motion of the current. Do not 
imagine, because the Caltha grows so abundant- 
ly in the wet places, that it is easily cultivated, 
unless you possess the luxury of a bog-garden 
or a running stream for it to wade in, when you 
may naturalize it to your heart's content. One 
always wishes to transplant these water-loving 
flowers, they look so cool and seem to grow so 



2rf)c Sjjrins ®5^il"D JFlolDers. 77 

easily. But they are born thirsty, and soon pine 
without their liquid nourishment. It will not 
suffice to give them a sponge-bath ; they de- 
mand the bath-tub, and only luxuriate where 
their roots are forever drinking the moisture. 

If you have a sharp eye and are acquainted 
with its haunts, you will see the large leaves of 
Orchis spectabilis, earliest of its family, pushing 
up to join the spring-tide pageant. The dwarf 
cornel has begun to prepare for its chase with 
the twin-flower and Vaccmium over the pros- 
trate logs ; while the bladder-fern and polypody 
crowd the stumps and bowlders, and the little 
Cystopteris is fast uncurling its interrogation- 
points. 

One of our most beautiful wild flowers is the 
little fringed Polygala {Polygala paucifolid), its 
refined rose-red or purple flowers resembling a 
small sweet-pea. It rises from long, white sub- 
terranean runners, rambling over shady hill-sides 
with the goldthread and star-flower, and occa- 
sionally the fragile little oak-fern. Is there any 
blossom poised quite so airily above its whorl of 
lanceolate leaves as the star-flower; and could 
there be anything fresher than the dainty, shin- 
ing foliage of the goldthread, that threads its 
leagues and leagues of golden runners through 
the cool, shadowy places of the woods ? All 



78 



E\)t (SJarticn's Storj). 



these, with the dwarf cornel {Cornus Canaden- 
sis), itself a bold rambler and always fresh-look- 
ing, are charming when well established in the 
Alpine garden. 

I should like to see a wild-woods garden 
placed in almost entire shade, and free from 
all rude draughts of air, composed exclusively 
of some of our native trailers and flowers, and 
a few of the miniature ferns. For the trailers, 
runners, and carpet plants, for instance, twin- 
flower, partridge-vine, goldthread, dwarf cornel, 
fringed Polygala, false Solomon's-seal, prince's- 
pine, ground-pine, and winter-green ; with star- 
flowers, Pyrolas, bluets, and star-grass ; and, for 
the small ferns, the common polypody, the oak 
and beech-ferns, the smaller Cystopteris, some 
of the dwarf spleenworts, and the hart's-tongue. 





tol)en JDaffobib begin to peer. 

In the flower-garden especial observance ought to be taken 
of the choicest roots of the Asian Ranunculi, Aulmoneys, ten- 
der Narcissi, and divers others of the like Tendernesse, and 
strangers to such Entertainments as our Northern Countries 
afford. — Philosophical Transactions of the Roval So- 
ciFTY, Article LXXXIX. 

Devotion to Flora as a queen among us is as yet a living 
truth, and among or around the heart of all true gardeners 
there is woven a thread of twisted gold. — F. W. Burbidge. 





IV. 



WHEN DAFFODILS BEGIN TO PEER. 




HE white-throated and white-crowned 
sparrows have lingered longer about 
^^^ the garden and the copse than usual 
before retiring to distant coverts. Thanks to 
unremitting warfare, my premises are compara- 
tively clear of the English sparrow, so it is pos- 
sible to hear the song-birds. Next to the in- 
comparable music of the hermit-thrush, I think 
the major and minor of these two sparrows, who 
are almost always in each other's company, one 
of the most pleasing of all our bird-voices. They 
are more sociable than the hermit-thrush, who 
sings his hymn only in the most secluded wood- 
lands ; the latter has hurried past us this sea- 
son, not making his customary pause on his re- 
turn trip. The blackbirds have suddenly disap- 
peared, after a brief dress-parade on the lawn. 
Over the distant lowlands I hear the vibrating 



82 E\)c (Kartien's Storu. 

warble of the meadow-lark ; while high above 
the pastures float the mellow strains of the 
bobolink. The wood-thrushes are early and 
welcome arrivals. I wish they might remedy 
the disagreeable crack in their notes which they 
seem to have caught from the grackle, the ter- 
mination of the second bar frequently sound- 
ing like a snapped bowstring. Otherwise the 
notes would be very liquid, and, at a distance, 
might almost pass for those of the hermit. The 
Baltimore orioles have brought with them their 
orange- scarlet plumage, and still another new 
note which they will change from time to time. 
Year before last it was more sustained, and quite 
as plain as if one pronounced it, " Pretty, pretty 
bird ! " 

The same cat-bird — I am sure it is the self- 
same demon — has taken up his perch in the 
maple close to my sleepmg-room, precisely as 
he has done for two years past. Nothing could 
be more delightful than his opening matin song, 
begun m a dulcet undertone, did I not know 
from experience his long-drawn crescendo and 
the frenzy of the finale — a perfect Hungarian 
"Czardas"! Pelting him with stones, a pile of 
which I keep within reach, stops him, as it does 
my morning nap. But he returns persistently to 
his chosen tree. I shall turn the garden-hose 



5l®t)en JDaffolrils btQhx to pttv. 8;^ 

upon him some evening, and see if cold water 
possesses the virtue that the prohibitionists would 
have us believe. 

Notwithstanding the caution I gave to spare 
the shears, the gardener ruined the beautiful 
Forsythias on the slope. If one needs an illus- 
tration of the cruelty of spring-pruning certain 
shrubs whose habit it is to flower on the old 
wood, he has but to trim a Forsythza into a 
rigid outline and compare it with one left un- 
touched. All the airy grace of the golden sprays 
is fled. Fortuneii and viridissitna, the for- 
mer especially, are the best of the Forsythias, 
or golden-bells ; suspensa looks ragged, even 
with close pruning. 

If you commence early to plant magnolias, 
you may possibly succeed in obtaining one to 
solace your declining years. The money the 
nursery-men must make layering, budding, and 
grafting the acres of things they do, and then 
levying two or three dollars apiece on the wares 
they puff up in their trade-lists ! All they do is 
to stick their things into the soil, and they take 
care of themselves. They must make thou- 
sands annually on magnolias alone ; for there 
is no case on record of any one establishing a 
magnolia until at least three or four attempts. 
I find growers invariably recommend transplant- 



84 2ri)e CKartien's Stori). 

ing this tree, when in blossom, the last thing in 
spring — a cunning device to sign its death-war- 
rant, so as to insure another sale the following 
year. Magnolia Halleana, or stellata, is beau- 
tiful on the lawns, with the Forsythia and the 
pink Chinese double flowering plum iPrunus 
tri'loba). Every little while one feels like touch- 
ing his hat to Japan, it has supplied us with so 
many valuable hardy shrubs and plants. Con- 
spicua comes next to Halleana, a much larger 
plant and flower. M. Lennei is a dark, late- 
flowering variety which should not be over- 
looked. The scarce M. purpurea, while not 
nearly so robust, has a more refined and dis- 
tinct flower than Lennei, of a very rich lake- 
color ; the petals are narrower and more point- 
ed than most magnolias. 

In well-sheltered positions M. macrophylla 
will withstand even the severe climate of western 
New York, by protecting it for the first few years 
during winter — a fact worth remembering with 
regard to many deciduous and evergreen trees 
which are usually considered not perfectly hardy. 
This species would be worth growing for its 
magnificent leaves ; when to these are added its 
gigantic white tulip-shaped blooms, it is incom- 
parably the most tropical-looking of all our trees. 
To obtain its most striking effect it should be 



SJ^Ijcn Baffotifls ftcflfn to jpeer. 85 

seen in a clump, the immense flowers being rela- 
tively few. 

Here it is well to direct attention to the pre- 
vailing error of planting permanent subjects too 
closely, or too near walks and roadways. It 
should never be forgotten, when planting, that 
the small tree must grow, and eventually require 
space to develop. How often noble specimens, 
just when they are attaining their full beauty, 
must be removed, from this point having been 
lost sight of in the first instance ! 

Unfortunately, cojtspzcua and Lennei are 
both somewhat tender; and of the large-flow- 
ered species, Soulangeana is on this account 
one of the most satisfactory for general cultiva- 
tion. M. Tho7nso7iiana, an American hybrid, 
a cross between the native glauca and tri- 
petala, seems to have become lost of late years. 
Difficult to propagate, no doubt the nursery- 
men can not realize a sufficient dividend upon 
it, and so have discarded it. It is a valuable 
half-evergreen species, retaining much of the 
fragrance of its American parent. 

Soon after the first magnolias the Japanese 
quinces appear, the most brilliant of ornamental 
shrubs. A single specimen of the scarlet varie- 
ty will light up the largest lawn. There is a 
softer and equally beautiful shade in the varie- 



86 S'fje CKarticn's Storg. 

ties umbellicata, aurantiaca, and others ; and 
also numerous lovely flesh-colored kinds. 

The double-flowering white Japanese peaches 
have appeared with Spircsas Thunbergii and 
primifolia. It is not because its blossom is 
whiter than the Spiraas, but because it so re- 
sembles the great flakes of the last flurry of 
snow, that the white peach seems the whitest 
of all flowering shrubs. The variety versicolor 
plena surprises one by its strange freak of pro- 
ducing variously white, red, and variegated flow- 
ers on the tree at the same time. It is nothing 
new to advise planting white-flowering trees and 
shrubs, with evergreens for a background ; nev- 
ertheless, it is good advice always worth repeat- 
ing. 

The rose and red flowering peaches are like- 
wise highly ornamental, and all the double-flow- 
ering cherries, notably the double white, may be 
placed in the same class. Most of the flower- 
ing crabs are beautiful. The blossom of the 
fragrant garland-flowering crab {Pyrus mains 
coronaria odorata) is not nearly as big as its 
name might imply, being a modest blush-flower 
borne in clusters, with the perfume of sweet vio- 
lets. But while admiring this and many other 
ornamental flowering trees, let us not overlook 
the glorious inflorescence of the apple itself, a 



Sffi^ljcn Baffotifls begin to peer. 87 

flower as tender in coloring and delicate in fra- 
grance as the rarest exotic. " A rose when it 
blooms, the apple is a rose when it ripens," says 
John Burroughs, who has said about all that can 
be said on the apple in his own inimitable way. 
What a gardener he would have made had he 
followed Loudon as closely as he has Audu- 
bon ! To properly enjoy Burroughs, he should 
be read in the author's pocket edition, pub- 
lished by David Douglas, Edinburgh. The 
burly, brown-cloth American volumes are too 
coarse a casket for the jewels they enshrine. 
The only possible objection to his locusts and 
wild honey is that they are sometimes too highly 
flavored with thyme from Mount Whitman. 

The yellow-flowering or Missouri currant is 
in bloom. It deserves to be cultivated, if only 
for its odor. A shrub will scent a garden, and 
a bunch of it a hall ; and its bouquet is as spicy 
as that of the yellow St. Peray wine, which I 
fancy it resembles, the favorite of Dumas pere. 
The bees crowd around its yellow blossoms, and 
its honey should be worth its apothecary-weight 
in gold. 

Herrick's Julia was born too soon. She 
missed Horsfieldi and many hundred others 
among the beautiful new English daffodils. 
But how much time she would have required 



88 E\)t CGarticn's 5btori>. 

to select a corsage-bouquet from the infinite 
number of nineteenth-century varieties, each 
one more bewitching than the other ! I find 
three hundred kinds in Barr's catalogue alone, 
with scores of undiscovered ones running wild 
through the Pyrenees, and who knows how many 
more new hybrids to be heard from ? Parkinson 
and Hale would have been beside themselves at 
the multitudinous forms and varieties. The daf- 
fodil is a flower for every one, and no spring 
garden is a garden in the full sense of the v^^ord 
without the grace and gayety it lends. Orchids 
are very well, yet they never seem to me to be 
a flower to excite special envy; we know they 
are beyond the reach of the masses, and that 
only a millionaire can grow them. Not so with 
the daffodil, which every one can enjoy in mod- 
eration, though a fine collection may be made a 
very expensive luxury as flowers go.* 

Of all floral catalogues, a daffodil catalogue 
is the most exquisitely tantalizing. The further 
you read, the deeper the gold ; and you are 
even met with 

Apples of gold in pictures of silver. 

* The term daffodil I have used in its general sense. 
Specifically speaking, in many cases the term Narcissus 
would naturally be employed. 



2121^1)011 ©affotJils btQin to peer. 89 

Daffodils running the entire gamut from yellow 
to white. Daffaclillies with trumpets flanged, 
expanded, gashed, lobed, serrated, and recurved. 
Daffadowndillies with perianths twisted, dog- 
eared, stellated, refiexed, imbricated, channeled, 
and hooded. Then the multitudinous divisions 
and classes. Hoop-petticoat daffodils, single and 
dwarf trumpets, bicolor and shortened bicolor 
trumpets, white trumpeters, coffee-cups, tea- 
cups and tea-saucers, musk-scented and Eucha- 
ris daffodils, jonquil-scented and rush-leaved, 
goblet-shaped daffodils, polyanthus or tazetta, 
early and late poet's daffodils, jonquils, double 
daffodils, and how many more of the gilded host 

To add to golden numbers golden numbers ! 

Lilies are tempting enough in the catalogues. 
But the lists finally come to an end, while the 
varieties of the daffodil are inexhaustible. The 
names, English and Latin, are so tempting, too, 
though these are nothing compared to the de- 
scriptions. To catch the daffodil-fever severely 
means either to break the tenth commandment 
or to be guilty of ruthless extravagance. You 
know there are swarms of varieties that will 
not succeed ; but how are you to single them 
out without trying them } How artistically, how 
artfully devised some of the monographs are! 
8 



go 5ri)e ^atticn's«Stori». 

Sulphur hoop-petticoat daffodil (Narcissus cor- 
bularia citrind), for instance — as if the name 
were not enough to sell it — bears this descrip- 
tion : " It is a bold and shapely flower of a soft 
sulphur tint, ' the color having a luminous qual- 
ity, the flower being like a little lamp of pale-yel- 
low light.' " Observe that two modern Parkin- 
sons are called upon to describe it, so that, if one 
fails to hook the reader, the other will be sure to 
land him. 

William Baylor Hartland, of Cork, Ireland, 
should be regarded as Herrick's and Words- 
worth's successor. His illustrated " ' Original ' 
Little Book of Daffodils " is a very epithala- 
miiiin of the flower of the poets. If we only 
had his climate and the Gulf Stream to help us 
raise his Narcissi ! Like most flowers, the daf- 
fodil is thankful for careful culture. It dislikes 
manure, preferring good loam and a liberal 
sprinkling of sand. Climate, however, is every- 
thing with it. It likes to usher in the season 
gradually, not hurry it as our spring wild flow- 
ers do. Mild winters, gradual warmth, and 
abundance of moisture during the early season 
suit it best. For many kinds our springs are too 
sudden, and the transition from frozen ground to 
almost tropical suns is too rapid. In England, 
from February, when daffodils begin to flower, 



fflj^ten Baffotrfls btQxn to peer. 91 

until May, the climate hesitates between winter 
and spring, and this is what daffodils seem to 
like. Nevertheless, even there some of the large 
trumpets go off with a kind of blight in masses 
after bad seasons. The flowering of the follow- 
ing year so depends upon the full development 
of the leaves that, if the weather suddenly be- 
comes blazing and burns up the foliage, degen- 
eracy is sure to result. 

To the labors of the late Edward Leeds and 
William Backhouse we are indebted for many 
of the finest hybrid forms. Leeds was the prince 
of hybridizers, and was followed by Backhouse, 
who raised empress and emperor. Many of the 
hybrid incoinparabilis, however, are so similar 
in form and coloring as to be perplexing and to 
uselessly extend the list of varieties. Of all these 
hybrids the Nelsoni are the finest and most dis- 
tinct, with broad, snow-white perianths, and yel- 
low cups usually suffused with orange on first 
opening. I was about to pass by the Barri va- 
rieties. But I find B. conspiciius, which has 
just opened, is almost another bicolor poeticus, 
also somewhat resembling one of the finest 
Leedsi forms, aureo tinctus. 

Since writing the above, I find the reverse 
opinion maintained by Mr. Burbidge, one of the 
best authorities on Narcissi. " As a grower of 



92 Ef>z eSaroen's Stoo. 

nearly six hundred forms in a public garden," he 
says, " I know something of the variability of 
daffodils, and also of the taste of those who see 
them. Often and again will one visitor condemn 
a particular form which the very next will stop 
to admire. Some will even tell you that there is 
none or but little difference between John Hors- 
field and empress ; whereas the differences are 
very marked in size, height, color of trumpet and 
of foliage, and in the date of blossoming. Taste 
is a shifting index, and there is room for all the 
varieties we now possess and more." Mr. Bur- 
bidge also imparts the information that those 
iV<3;rmj'/ possessing thick, fleshy, prong- like roots 
will grow anywhere, even in manured soils ; but 
those having thin, short bunches of fine, wiry 
fibers will not do so, and must be grown in sand 
or gravel and pure fresh meadow-loam only. 

Hybrids in the genus Narcissus are very 
readily made, and undoubtedly any species of 
the genus, under favorable conditions, will form 
a hybrid with any other species of it ; and sev- 
eral of these kinds which are considered by bot- 
anists as species, seem to be hybrids ; that is, 
they can be imitated by crossing two other spe- 
cies of the genus. The best-known instance of 
this is the so-called species Narcissus incom- 
^arabilis. A cross between N. pseudo-narcis- 



W&\)tn BaffotJils bejjtn to peer. 93 

sifs and JV. poeticus produces in some instances 
a daffodil which can not be distinguished from 
this ; but the same cross may also produce re- 
sults varying in the degree of each parent they 
contain, varying in the color, size of trumpet, 
and other particulars. These varieties are found 
wild on European mountains at elevations where 
A^. poeticus and A^. pseudo-narcissus flower si- 
multaneously with the melting of the snow. It 
is this cross, made in gardens, that has produced 
all the Leeds hybrids. As for increase, some of 
the incomparabilis sorts multiply rapidly. Gen- 
erally, orange Phoenix increases rapidly, but sul- 
phur Phoenix never increases at all. The trum- 
pets mcrease ver}' irregularly ; with me, obvalla- 
ris and the common spurius are perhaps the 
best growers of this section. 

Among the bicolor trumpeters Horsfieldi 
and empress are incomparably king and queen. 
I confess I can perceive little difference between 
them aside from the foliage, except that the lat- 
ter is a few days later to flower, and its trumpet 
stands out less boldly. Each exhales a rich 
magnolia-like odor ; each flutters its pure white 
perianth and great golden corona over the luxu- 
riant green foliage like some gorgeous butterfly, 
rather than a perfumed flower. Empress in- 
creases far more slowly than Horsfieldi. Its 



94 5ri)e CKatticn's Storn. 

favorites claim for the former that it is better 
" set up," the perianth having more substance 
and the flower lasting longer. 

The marked difference of the flowering period 
of these two and many other sorts is hardly ap- 
parent with us. Hot weather follows our cold 
weather so rapidly, that we almost lose sight 
of this distinction, and a great majority of the 
daffodils appear in blossom at nearly the same 
time. Emperor is certainly a grand variety, but 
infinitely larger in the English illustrations than 
in the American soil. Sir Watkin is scarcely as 
big as his name or his price would lead one to 
suppose. Nevertheless, he is assuredly the largest 
of the flat chalice-flowers or tea-cup section, and 
keeps on increasing from year to year. We must 
not expect to raise daffodils two to three feet 
high, as they can and do in England and Ire- 
land, or grow them with trumpets large enough 
to serve the angel Gabriel. 

Maxhnus (Hale's vase of beaten gold) I 
have been unable to manage. Neither can I 
grow the double poeticus successfully, after re- 
peated trials with bulbs sent from England and 
Holland and procured here. It throws up strong 
flower-stalks, but they invariably come blind. I 
shall banish it to some neglected corner, where 
it will probably take better care of itself. Ard- 



ffl2^i)cn DaffoTJfls bcjjfn to jpccr. 95 

Righ, nobilis, princeps, and a form of single 
Telamonius are all distinct and desirable forms. 

In a great vaseful of daffodils before me, 
cerniius, the drooping white Narcissus, is con- 
spicuous, nodding lithely from its fluted stalk. 
Its sulphur perianth changing to white, and pale 
primrose tube, are heightened in their refined 
effect by its pendulous habit. It is a Spanish 
flower, and, as it can not wear a mantilla, it co- 
quettishly hangs its lovely head. Smaller, but 
also beautiful, is Circe, one of the Leeds forms 
of the tea-cup section, with white perianth seg- 
ments, and a cup changing from canary to white. 
The white daffodils generally possess a superior 
air of good breeding ; they always seem dressed 
for the drawing-room. The yellow ones, even 
where they are superlatively handsome, look as 
if they preferred a romp or a game of tennis. 

The Pyrenean pallidus prcBcox is invariably 
the first daffodil in the garden, closely succeeded 
by the distinct obvallaris or Tenby ; the pale 
straw-color and cernuous habit of the one con- 
trasting strongly with the vivid gold and large, 
wide-mouthed crown of the other. I have yet 
to see the daffodil which can compare with the 
intensity of its gold. " The causes of the singu- 
lar and almost blinding intensity of the color," 
Hamerton explains from a painter's standpoint, 



96 E\)t CSartrcn's Storn. 

" are a gradation from semi-transparent outward 
petals, which are positively greenish in them- 
selves, and still more by transparence owing to 
green leaves around, to the depth of yellow in 
the womb of the flowers, where green influences 
are excluded, but yellow ones multiplied by the 
number of the petals. So in the heart the color 
is an intense orange cadmium, not dark, but 
most intense — a color that we remember all the 
year round." Hamerton says this in reference 
to Wordsworth's dance of the daffodils, and thus 
had pseudo-narcissus, or the common Lent lily, 
in mind, which has a pale perianth and rich yel- 
low trumpet, and which is extremely difficult to 
cultivate in its native country. 

Cynosure, another of the Leedsii hybrids, and 
Mary Anderson, single of the familiar orange 
Phoenix, are both strikingly beautiful. The for- 
mer has a large primrose perianth changing to 
white, and an orange-scarlet cup ; the latter, 
a silver perianth and a cup of lively orange- 
scarlet. 

What with most flowers deteriorates from 
their beauty only increases the attractiveness of 
many of the daffodils, the fading perianth often 
adding a chastened beauty to the passing flower. 
Would that our pretty wives and sweethearts 
could all grow old so charmingly, or that woman 



CS^ljcn j©afFotiil.«f btQin to peer. 97 

might learn from the daffodil the art of always 
looking- lovely things ! 

The big trumpeters and chalice-flowers are 
not yet over before the poeticus and polyatithiis 
groups and the jonquils appear. How cool the 
snow-white corolla of single poeticus, and how 
warm the rim of its dainty cup ! And who that 
has ever scented it can forget its delicious aro- 
ma ? The varieties of poeticus are many ; the 
garden varieties, recurvus, patellaris, and orna- 
tus, being finer than those collected wild. All of 
the polyanthus, or tazettas, are likewise delight- 
fully odorous. The latter form pushes up so 
strongly in the fall, however, that it is apt to be 
injured by frost, and therefore the bulbs should 
be lifted after flowering and stored until late 
autumn. The big and little jonquils — and even 
here the variety is great — concentrate more odor 
in their little cups than any other form of narcis- 
sus. Of the double daffodils, poeticus plenus is 
too well known to be specified. With me, as 
has been previously observed, most of the buds 
come blind, the flowers forming inside the 
spathe, which becomes hermetically sealed, and 
soon dries up and .dies. In England, where this 
species flowered very poorly the past season, a 
friend writes me that the same conditions pre- 
vailed, failure being attributed to the drought 



98 S'ljc CKartren*s Stotj). 

and cold winds of February and March, and 
something " going wrong " with it in May. The 
common double yellow is coarse compared with 
either orange or sulphur Phoenix. I can grow 
neither of these successfully. The latter runs 
out after the first year; the former gradually 
turns green— jealous, no doubt, of its thriving 
sisters in my neighbor's garden. 

The hoop-petticoat narcissus of southern 
Europe I have yet to try out of doors, well pro- 
tected in winter. It is of all the Narcissi the 
most individual, resembling an evening primrose 
enlarged and much lengthened. 

The depth at which daffodils and lilies should 
be planted is a disputed question. In light soils 
it is well to err in planting too deep rather than 
too shallow ; in stiff soils they should not be 
planted at all. Very many of the daffodils re- 
quire to be placed in new soil every year or two ; 
weak foliage and decreasing flowers indicate that 
they require a change. Transplanting, in either 
case, should be effected so soon as the leaves 
and stalks have died down, during the short 
space the bulbs are at rest. To secure the finest 
flowers, they should be cut in the full-bud stage, 
and allowed to expand in water within doors. 

In England daffodils are taken up in July 
every year. James Walker, the largest grower 



t!M\)tn DaffoTjfls btQin to peer. 99 

near London, plants the bulbs in land that was 
manured for peas or early potatoes ; a similar 
plan being adopted by the Dutch growers in 
their bulb-culture. Sea-sand is very genial to 
daffodils ; the Scilly Islands soil consists of but 
little else. Constant replanting in deep, pure 
soil is the plan in England now, although five 
years ago growers were all manuring the soil for 
them. In Holland, a// bulbs are lifted once a 
year. Fine crocuses, hyacinths, and tulips do 
not grow themselves. The soil in Holland is 
dark sea-sand or alluvium. Cow-manure is 
largely used for ordinary farm-crops, and after 
these have sweetened the soil it is dug over, two 
to four feet deep, and the bulbs are plant- 
ed. Deep culture prevents their suffering from 
drought, and gives a clean, round bulb. To the 
Dutch should be awarded the prize for perfect- 
ing the bunch-flowering section, as to the Eng- 
lish belongs the olive-crown for developing the 
grand trumpeters and the incomparabilis sec- 
tion. 

For house-culture some of the tazettas are 
very effective, grown in the Chinese fashion, in 
water. Indeed, many of the Narcissi, which 
force readily, may be grown in this manner. In 
China N. tasetta is a favorite flower. The cus- 
tom there is to place the bulbs in bowls of water 



roo a:f)c CKartJen's Storj. 

with pebbles, the latter being employed for the 
roots to adhere to. But to produce Chinese 
effects we must have the Chinese narcissus, a 
splendid species, with immense, vigorous bulbs. 
The bulbs should be started in their receptacle 
with water about five weeks before they are 
wanted to flower, and placed in the dark until 
root-growth is made. They may then be moved 
to a sunny window, requiring no further care 
beyond keeping up the supply of water. They 
may even be grown in full light from the start. 
The Chinese tazetta, thus treated, throws up 
huge leaves, and stiff flower-stems two feet or 
more in height. There are two varieties, with 
single and double flowers, somewhat resembling 
in individual flowers Grand Prhno and the double 
Roman tazetta, though of less substance and 
less highly perfumed. 

Many of the lovely English hybrids we can 
not grow with success, owing to our rigorous 
climate. They are inversely like some of our 
wild flowers in England, which miss the frost 
and long season of rest, as some of the daffodils 
with us lack the genial climate they are accus- 
tomed to. Still, if many varieties refuse to be- 
come acclimated, there are very many others 
that are readily grown. Let us, then, follow the 
adrnirable precept of Delille : 



5!H!^!)en i0affotjils btQin to peer. loi 

Ce que votre terrain adopte avec plaisir, 
Sachez le reconnoitre, osez-vous en saisir. 

I have been enjoying Deiille in the old edition 
of eighteen volumes, copiously illustrated with 
quaint woodcuts. I found it in an old book- 
stall, and obtained it for a song. No wonder 
the late A. J. Downing was so fond of " Les 
Jardins," a French Georgic with nineteenth-cent- 
ury improvements ! Sir Theodore Martin ought 
to do with this and " The Man of the Fields " 
what he has done with Horace and Heine ; they 
are books that every gardener and lover of nature 
should be able to enjoy. 

So many desirable forms oi Narcissi may be 
had so cheaply, that almost any one can afford 
to grow some of the capricious varieties as bien- 
nials. With proper selection and intelligent cul- 
tivation, we may have in the daffodil a treasure- 
house of beauty, and with this flower alone 
render any garden a field of the cloth of gold 





QL\)C Eock-C^arlrcn. 



Pleasures which nowhere else were to be found, 
And all Elysium in a plot of ground. 

Dryden. 

Imitez ce grand art, et des plants delicats 
Nuancez le passage a de nouveaux climats. 
Observez leurs couleurs, leurs formes, leurs penchans, 
Leurs amours, leurs hymens. 

DfiLILLE, L'HOMME DES ChAMPS. 





V. 

THE ROCK-GARDEN. 




HEARD the tre?nolo of the toads for 
the first time, April 20th— later than 
-^^^^^^^^^^^^ usual. They are supposed to be 
silenced thrice by the cold — a rule I have gen- 
erally found to be true. Though limited in com- 
pass, the toad possesses a musical voice, and 
only sounds it in warm weather. The orches- 
tration of the small frogs, where each one tries 
to puff himself up as big as an ox, is emphat- 
ically a vernal tone, but it can not be termed 
musical. Their comical croakings always re- 
mind me of the peculiar noise made by boat- 
builders during the operation of calking. The 
huge, green bull-frog of the swamps, who is not 
heard until much later than his smaller brethren, 
has the merit of a powerful organ not entirely 
immelodious. In the distance, on hot summer 
evenings, his grand bassoon blends well with the 
9 



io6 E\)t (Sinvhcn's Storj). 

lighter and varied instrumentation of the lesser 
reptilia. His nocturne brings the plash of water 
and the scent of water-lilies nearer to me. It is 
a fluviatile expression, the fitting utterance of 
ponds and swamps. The cicada emphasizes no 
more tensely the heat of the midsummer noon, 
than the great batrachian the serenity of the 
summer night. His voice fits into the landscape 
like an audible shade — a sonorous emanation of 
coolness and departed day. 

The trill of the toad is the prelude to spring, 
as the cricket's croon is the farewell to summer. 
How drowsily the chorus floats up from the low- 
lands — a summons to the early bees and flies to 
seek the precocious flowers ! The blue scillas, 
the hepaticas, and the cowslips are swarming 
with the smaller bees and musccs. Where do 
they come from in such swarms ; and where do 
they all house themselves when the inevitable 
change of temperature puts a stop to cross-fer- 
tilization.^ A few warm days have done won- 
ders toward startnig delayed vegetation, each of 
the spring flowers apparently trying to outstrip 
the other. The pushmg and striving for warmth 
and sunlight always seem to me among the 
most marvelous things of nature — the embryo 
seed, the rising stalk, the unfolding corolla, the 
perfect flower ! 



E\)t 3^octt^^artrcn. T07 

Scilla Siberica is perhaps the best of its 
class, although the comparatively new Chiono- 
doxa Lucilice is almost equally desirable for its 
lovely shade of blue. Of the other squills, the 
colors of S. bifolia vary much, some being far 
better than others ; this species also contains a 
white variety. S. Italica and S. amcena are 
worthless. The later-flowering Spanish squills 
are large and coarse, but showy in shrubberies. 
These are of three colors — blue, white, and 
pink — sold under three names — campanulata, 
patula, and nutans. The difference in name 
does not always insure difference in flower. The 
best of all, certainly, as regards color, is S. Sibe- 
rica. From the chinks of the rocks the hepati- 
cas glow with all shades of blue, purple, and 
rose, until they stop at nearly a pure white. The 
hepatica comes in the category of those flowers 
which the gardener neatly terms "very thank- 
ful." If you can not procure it readily from the 
woods, you should raise it from seed taken pro- 
miscuously from the different kinds, to procure 
new colors. 

It is not strange that the British hold the 
primrose in such estimation that they have con- 
secrated to it a " Primrose-Day" — April 19th — 
the anniversary of the death of Lord Beacons- 
field, who wore a bunch of primroses in his but- 



io8 3ri)e CKnrtrcn's Stor^. 

ton-hole whenever they were procurable. Hardy 
and floriferous, it is the richest of early spring 
flowers : from the palette of tints of the polyan- 
thus, through the varied hues of the cowslip and 
common primrose to the ''edged" and "pow- 
dery " Auriculas, the large, purple clusters of 
the Siberian cortusoides, and the fiery, opening 
eye of the Himalayan P. rosea. The Himalayan 
P. denticulata is a fine species, with bright 
mauve flowers on tall stalks. P. Sikkimensis is 
probably the most distinct of the Himalayan 
kinds, with lemon-colored and deliciously-scent- 
ed trusses borne on lofty scapes. This must be 
raised from seed in pans or boxes; then, if 
planted out in shade in early autumn, the plants 
flower moderately well the following June. The 
second June they flower still finer, but after that 
they die, or deteriorate, and have to be replaced 
by fresh seedlings. It is one of the latest of its 
family to bloom. Nearly all the many varieties 
of the Japanese P. Sieboldi are charming, being 
perfectly hardy, unusually free-flowering, and 
remarkable for the size of trusses and flowers. 
A strain of EngHsh primrose, called Dean's 
high-colored hybrids, has produced some most 
tender and fascinating colors. 

In many instances of primroses raised from 
seed, it is puzzling to know just where the poly- 



E^t 3lllocfe=ffiavticn. 109 

anthus begins and the primrose leaves off — they 
seem to run into one another through hybridiza- 
tion. Our native primroses number but few spe- 
cies. P. farinosa, or bird's-eye primrose, also 
a native of Europe, is found in several localities. 
P. Mistassinica, a small, rose-colored species, 
rarely seen under cultivation, occurs in several 
Northern and Eastern States. The finest of in- 
digenous species is P. Parry z, common in Ne- 
vada, the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, and the 
Uintahs, at an altitude of six thousand to ten 
thousand feet. This flowers from July to Sep- 
tember, bearing fine rose-colored blossoms with 
yellow eyes, on tall stalks — a distinct and hand- 
some hardy species. One should have a great 
bank of primroses placed in partial shade, to 
enjoy their fragrance and color en masse. And 
they should be raised from seed at least every 
other year, to keep up a supply of young plants, 
and to distribute among one's friends. But their 
most appropriate place is the Alpine garden, 
where they form dense cushions of bloom, and, 
with the daffodils, form a garden in themselves. 
In English poetry the primrose shares an 
equal place with the violet and daffodil. It is 
referred to as the " lady of the springe," " win- 
ter's joyous epitaph," " merry spring-time's har- 
binger," " sweet infanta of the year," " the 



no 2nje CKartien's Storj. 

welcome news of sweet, returning spring," " the 
precious key of spring " ; and most conspicuous- 
ly by Shakespeare, who associates it with the 
daffodil and violet in the flowers let fall from 
Dis's wagon. Here, where it is comparatively 
scarce under cultivation, its beauties have only 
been sparingly sung by the poets, who neverthe- 
less freely voice the praises of the snow-drop, 
crocus, and daffodil. Among our native flowers, 
the arbutus, violet, and gentian are freely singled 
out by the poets, and the azalea, bloodroot, he- 
patica, and cardinal-flower all come for their 
share of appreciation. I do not recall any poem 
on the spring beauty, the meadow-rue, the rue- 
anemone, or the moss- pink. Lowell is poet- 
laureate of the dandelion, and Emerson the bard 
of the rhodora. The wind-flower, or anemone, 
a well-known flower in American verse, would 
become a favorite, if only from Whittier's breezy 

lines : 

And violets and wind-flowers sway 
Against the throbbing heart of May. 

Of all forms of cultivating flowers, rock-gar- 
dening is the most fascinating. Within a small 
space you may grow innumerable dainty plants, 
which would be swallowed up or would not 
thrive in the border — delicate Alpines, little 
creeping vines, cool mosses, rare orchids, and 



STfjc a!lock*(SnrTjeu. iii 

much of the minute and charming flora of the 
woods and mountains. Over this rock may trail 
the fragrant sprays of the twin-flower ; here, at 
the base, a carpet of partridge-vine may be 
pierced by the wild-wood and meadow-lilies, and 
there a soldanella or Alpine gentian flash beside 
the fronds of an English fern. Then, its con- 
stant variety, and the inconceivable amount of 
plants it will contain ! And how they develop 
and thrive among the rocks, where the roots 
have only to dive down to keep cool ! I speak 
of the rock-garden as distinguished from the 
" rockery " — that embellishment to be found in 
company with the geranium-bed, surrounded by 
whitewashed stones ; and iron stags or grey- 
hounds standing guard over the growth of a hop- 
vine up a mutilated Norway spruce. With the 
" rockery " we are all familiar — that nightmare 
of bowlders, that earthquake of stones dumped 
out on to the hottest portion of the lawn, with a 
few spadefuls of soil scattered among them. 
Into this scant pasturage, where even a burdock 
would cry out for mercy, dainty plants are turned 
to graze. Fancy the rude shock to a glacier- 
pink or a Swiss harebell ! The bowlder with a 
" pocket " is always at a premium, and within 
this parched receptacle, where nothing but Se- 
dum acre or the common saxifrage could sub- 



112 STIje eSfarXren's Storjj. 

sist, is placed a delicate Alpine. Of course, this 
is merely the death-warrant of the subject. 
Some tough and weedy species, that thrive on 
neglect, may survive the broiling ordeal. Usu- 
ally only the rocks and Sediuns remain, and the 
cultivation of Alpmes is given up in disgust. 

To grow Alpine plants successfully, it is 
necessary to understand the object of the rock- 
garden — its special adaptation to a very large 
class of beautiful plants, which find in it the 
root-moisture and natural surroundings they re- 
quire. Many of these are too minute, many too 
fastidious, to be grown in any other way. The 
novelty, the delightful variety and charm which 
the rock-garden lends to the cultivation of flow- 
ers can scarcely be overestimated. From the 
very requirements of most Alpine plants, which 
love to run deeply into the soil in search of 
moisture, it is self-evident that there should be 
no unfilled spaces left between the base and sur- 
face. The rocks should be firmly imbedded in 
the soil, with sufficient space left between them 
for root development of the plants. While the 
hideous chaos of stones of the average " rock- 
ery " can not be too severely condemned, half- 
buried bowlders, showing here and there their 
weather-beaten sides, have a picturesque look, 
especially when the flowering season is over. 



2C|)c 3£locfe=®artJcn. 113 

The form of the rock-garden will depend largely 
on the character of the surroundings. Nothing 
can be more beautiful than a rock-garden at the 
base of a declivity, with the center, perhaps, 
forming a natural grotto half smothered with 
trailers and ferns. A rigid wall of rock will be 
avoided, while a round or even an oval mound is 
less pleasing than a form of somewhat irregular 
outline. Whatever form may be chosen, the 
rock-work should be constructed with a view of 
growing Alpine plants, and subordinating geo- 
logical effects. 

The soil is a matter of prime importance. 
Often, " potting-earth," as it is termed, is used, 
which becomes stiff and cakes badly during hot 
weather. For the majority of rock-plants a 
sandy loam proves most suitable. In some por- 
tions leaf-mold should be freely mixed with the 
soil, to meet the requirements of certain species ; 
while peat-loving subjects will naturally be pro- 
vided with the soil they prefer. A top-dressing 
of fine old leaf-mold and fresh loam every au- 
tumn will prove of advantage both in supplying 
the waste of soil from washings, and in serving 
as a fertilizer. I do not think the stress laid 
upon an easterly exposure, in England and on 
the Continent, applies here. The main points 
with us are shade and protection from draughts. 



114 ^tf^ ^attJen's Stoti). 

Spring subjects have mostly flowered before the 
trees are in full leaf ; and, with our blazing sum- 
mer suns, overshading through foliage will sel- 
dom occur. A few hours' sunshine during the 
day is sufficient for most plants which blossom 
after the latter part of May. The rock-garden 
is never appropriate in the center of a lawn. It 
is a dainty form of gardening, which should be 
enshrined by itself, rather than have its loveli- 
ness thrust upon one. 

A rock-garden in a glade of a wood would 
be charming. This would afford abundant 
shade and moisture for the shadow - loving 
plants and diminutive ferns, as well as shelter 
from rude draughts, notwithstanding the belief, 
which most of us had when we were children, 
that it was the trees that made the wind. 

Wherever it may be situated, it should be 
readily accessible to the garden-hose. I find a 
very fine dust-spray, which may be pinned into 
the ground and shifted from one point to an- 
other, the best means of watering. A coarse 
spray washes away the earth and is rude to the 
flowers. With sufficient moisture in summer and 
protection during winter, many species which are 
pronounced not hardy, or not to be acclimated, 
may be grown successfully. Oak and beech 
leaves covered lightly v;ith evergreen boughs 



2rf)c 3llocfe:=<*KarTicn. 115 

form the best means of protection. These should 
not be used until the ground is frozen, or plants 
may damp off, and mice harbor and cause de- 
struction under the leaves. 

Generally speaking, more especially where 
the space is limited, all plants with running, 
fast-spreading root-stalks should be avoided. 
Some of the harebells, for instance, desirable as 
they otherwise would be, are objectionable on 
this account. They must be hemmed in or have 
sufficient space, otherwise they encroach upon 
and soon smother their delicate neighbors. 
Some free-seeding plants are also to be guarded 
against. The Sediim, in many of its forms, is a 
pest, and with very few exceptions should never 
be introduced among rare and beautiful plants. 
I know of a rock-garden, admirably constructed 
at great cost, which had to be virtually torn 
apart to get rid of the Sedu7n. 

The way really to enjoy the cultivation of 
Alpine plants is to build a new rock-garden 
every year, says Rev. Wolley Dod, one of Eng- 
land's most distinguished plant-culturists and 
botanists. I have been content with two thus 
far, and, so great is the enjoyment they afford, I 
shall supplement them with a fern rock-garden, 
for the smaller and more delicate ferns. 

When referring to the toad, I omitted to 



ii6 E\)z CKarTien's <Stov,)). 

state that he is a treasure among flowers. He 
has a jewel in his tongue as well as his eye, and 
is better than whale-oil soap as an insect-exter- 
minator. One would think his unwieldy pres- 
ence must necessarily be destructive to fragile 
plants, yet his nocturnal hoppings leave no trace 
of injury to the most delicate flowers. How 
many gnats and flies and borers and aphides he 
snaps up with his sphinx-like tongue during the 
day, from behind the cool rock where he appears 
to be dozing, Gilbert White, I believe, has never 
computed. Richard Jefferies speaks of a straw- 
berry-patch, the constant resource of all creeping 
things, where one toad always resided, and often 
two, and, as you gathered a ripe strawberry, 
you might catch sight of his black eye watching 
you take the fruit he had saved for you. The 
toad takes excellent care of the insects, but, un- 
fortunately, can not manage the snails, which, 
unless carefully watched, are sometimes quite 
destructive to the tender leaves of certain plants. 
Since the scillas, hepaticas, and spring-beauty 
have faded, another colony of flowers has ap- 
peared. The primrose yet remains, with tufts 
of later-flowering polyanthus and troops of 
merry -eyed auriculas. Saxifraga cordifolia 
and its varieties have thrust out their large 
trusses of rosy blossoms above their glossy 



5r!)c 3^oc%*^articn. 117 



leaves ; and S. peltata, the gigantic species of 
the Sierra Nevadas, has sent up its tall stalks 
crowned with corymbs of pale-pink flowers, 
which appear before the huge, shield-like leaves. 
Two varieties of this species occur, one found 
at an elevation of six thousand to seven thousand 
feet, and the other growing in and along streams 
through the lower and warmer portions of Cali- 
fornia. The former is evidently much hardier 
and also more effective, its leaves in its na- 
tive habitat often attaining a diameter of from 
three to four feet. S. longifolia, of the Pyre- 
nees, is difficult to establish, but its near rela- 
tion, S. cotyledon, which John Addington Sy- 
monds singles out as the finest of all the plants 
of the Alps, forms fine rosettes, although it has 
as yet refused to bloom for me. 

The jonquils, Trillium grandijlorum, the 
rue-anemones, the tiarella, the purple and white 
Phlox subulata, the white Erythroniwn and 
Trillium erythrocarpum, are all in holiday at- 
tire. If we had not Narcissus poeticus, the lat- 
ter might almost take its place, with its swan- 
white corolla and pheasant's eye. The rosy 
umbels of the garland-flower {Daphne cneorum^ 
exhale such a delicious, penetrating perfume, 
that one is loath to leave it. Its opening crimson 
buds always tell me pleasant weather has come 



ii8 2rije CKarlfen's Storj?. 

to stay. A native of the European mountain- 
ranges, it is one of the jewels of the rock-garden. 
But it is apt to prove capricious, and suddenly 
disappoint one by being winter-killed. Peat is 
usually prescribed for it. The finest specimens 
I have ever seen grew almost neglected, in rath- 
er poor, sandy soil, half-hidden by quack-grass. 
Gardeners should keep a memorandum, to strike 
a potful of cuttings every June, taken from as 
near the root of the plant as possible ; cuttings 
grow slower, but make better plants than layers. 
D. rupestris, allied to cneoru?n, and the white 
blagyana, I have vainly attempted to establish. 
The former is undoubtedly hardy with winter 
protection, a microscopic plant having withstood 
two winters, and then dying off in summer. 

The English nursery-men should be prose- 
cuted for plant-infanticide. The miserable little 
sticks they send out are most of them too feeble 
to withstand a short journey, and, even with 
greenhouse coddling, are too weak and preco- 
cious to revive. The charges are certainly not 
at fault, for these would warrant adult plants 
instead of weaklings. Perhaps this stricture 
should not be confined to England, but apply 
equally to the Continent and America. 

Of plants that grow in low-spreading masses, 
several species of the Phlox, a genus exclusively 



?ri)e aftocfe^CKarticn. 119 

North American, are most desirable. P. subu- 
lata, or moss-pink, the little evergreen with lav- 
ender-colored flow^ers, together with the white 
and many other varieties, are all charming sub- 
jects. How gracefully, too, the moss-pink drapes 
a grave, paying its lovely but voiceless tribute 
to the departed ! P. procumbe?ts succeeds su- 
bulata, but neither its color nor its habit is as 
pleasing. P. amce^ta, Wiih. lighter-colored pur- 
ple flowers and of dwarfer habit, is preferable 
to the latter. Prettier than either of these is a 
much larger growing species, P. divaricata, 
whose profusion of bluish or lilac flowers, on 
stems a foot high, perfume the places where it 
grows. Under cultivation, it increases rapidly 
in full sunshine. Growing near it, in a rich 
wood, I found, the other day, a colony of "Viola 
rostrata, one of our most beautiful species, rare 
in this vicinity. It has a long, slender spur, the 
four lavender petals beautifully stained, and pen- 
ciled with dark purple. The flower is of good 
size, and its hue might almost correspond to 
the "lids of Juno's eyes." 

The white-umbeled, evergreen, sand-myrtle 
{Leiophyllum buxifoHuin) is in bloom, togeth- 
er with the yellow Polygala lutea, and the lit- 
tle yellow heath-like Hudsoma tofnentosa of the 
New Jersey pine-barrens. There are very many 



I20 Efft CKartren's Storj. 

easier things to grow ; they demand a partially- 
shaded position, and peat freely sprinkled with 
silver sand. 

A host of Iceland poppies [Papaver nudi- 
caule) has been called forth by the spring sun- 
shine. They are, of all familiar poppyworts, the 
most beautiful, gracefully poised on tall scapes 
that nod and toss and flutter with every passing 
breeze. It is scarcely of these that Burns says : 

Pleasures are like poppies spread ; 
You seize the flower, the bloom is shed. 

Or Keats : 

At a touch, sweet pleasure melteth, 
Like to poppies when rain pelteth. 

They are less fugacious than most of their wide- 
spread family, and there is always a fresh blos- 
som to supply the one which has passed. The 
foliage is more delicate than that of any other 
species I am acquainted with, unless it be its 
little relative, the Alpine poppy {P. Alpmu?n). 
Meconopsis Cambrica, the Welsh wildling, some- 
what resembles it, though it is coarser, more 
fugitive, and not nearly so floriferous. This 
does best in damp, sandy soil near water. As 
it is apt to die off the second year on dry soils, 
it is well to raise it from seed, which germinates 
readily. Meconopsis Nepalensis, the finest of 



2r!)e a^octt^e&artien. 121 

the Himalayan species, I have three times failed 
to raise from seed ; it is said to be a most ca- 
pricious plant — either the seed is nearly always 
bad, or conditions are not favorable for germina- 
tion more than once in two or three years. 

Like all of its tribe, the Iceland poppy revels 
in sunshine, thriving best in sandy soil. All its 
forms are delicately beautiful, the yellow, white, 
orange-scarlet, and, rarest of all, a color I can 
only describe by comparing it to the plumage of 
the scarlet tanager. This is the only one of its 
species I know of which has a pleasant perfume. 
It is easily raised, and seed should be sown out 
of doors in August, or plants left to seed them- 
selves. Occasionally among seedlings a semi- 
double form will occur, and also a very beauti- 
ful dwarf form, more frequently white than yel- 
low, with short, stiff stems often bearing fifteen 
to twenty flower-cups within a diameter of five 
inches. A cream-colored semi-double form, with 
larger flowers than the type, is also very beauti- 
ful. I sow seeds of the white and orange-scar- 
let forms only ; but of the latter the greater part 
come yellow. Though perfectly hardy, it is well 
to treat it as an annual, and thus always keep up 
a good supply of young plants to fill spaces made 
vacant by the daffodils when they die down, or 
to group freely in the borders. P. mnbrosum, 
10 



122 2ri)c CKartJcn's Stotj). 

a hardy annual from the Caucasus, is larger, and 
not quite so neat in habit, yet strikingly beauti- 
ful with its dark-red petals blotched with black. 
P. Hookeri is another handsome annual recently 
introduced, extremely variable in the color of its 
brilliant flowers. 

Gentiana acatdis gives us one of the most 
indelible blues of spring, a lovely, large, urn- 
shaped blossom clinging closely to the leathery 
leaves. An Alpine and Pyrenean plant, it is 
perfectly hardy and not difficult to cultivate. 
It is larger and more robust than its still pret- 
tier and near relative, G. ve?'na, which opens 
its blue stars about a week later. This does 
best in a slightly shaded and well-drained posi- 
tion, and when abundantly supplied with water 
during midsummer. I may call it the sapphire 
of the rock-garden, as its exquisite blue flower 
is termed the gem of the mountain- pastures of 
southern Europe and Asia. Much later to ap- 
pear is our own fringed gentian {G. crznztd), 
mirroring the blue October skies, and excep- 
tional for the four fringed lobes of its corolla. 
G. Andrewsii, also a native, has its deep pur- 
ple-blue flowers striped within with whitish 
folds. You are fortunate if you can transplant 
the fringed gentian successfully ; it is like the ar- 
butus, and pines away from its home. All the 



E\)t aiXocfe^CIKavtien. 123 

gentians are beautiful and worthy of special 
culture; all, however, are difificult to raise from 
seed. 

A classic flower, for it occurs in Greece and 
along the Mediterranean, is the scarlet wind- 
flower {Atiemone fulgens). Its early flowering 
habit causes it to start so soon that, while un- 
questionably hardy with protection, it simply 
throws up its leaves without blossoming. In 
its own country it comes up in autumn, but the 
winters are so mild it does not suffer. It should 
be treated like the tazzetta Narcissus, and its 
tubers stored until November ; a red wind-flow- 
er is so unusual a departure from the type that 
one can afford to bestow upon it special pains. 
A. Pulsatilla, the European pasque-flower, distin- 
guished for its large, solitary, violet-purple flow- 
ers, succeeds in well-drained limestone soil. The 
double of the common native wind-flower {A. 
nemorosd), discovered a few years since in Con- 
necticut, is said to be a valuable variety, lasting 
much longer in bloom than the type. The snow- 
drop wind-flower {A. sylvestris), of Siberia and 
central Europe, is a lovely species, bearing me- 
dium-sized white flowers and blossoming in June, 
not unlike a small white Japanese anemone. A. 
palmata, Alpina, and blanda afe all tender 
species, and so difficult to manage in England 



124 2rf)e €fartren's Storj?. 

that it is scarcely worth while to attempt them. 
The anemone is poetically named from anemos, 
the wind, on account of the exposed places 
where it blows. 

Without doubt Iris reticulata is the most 
beautiful of its tribe for the Alpine garden. Its 
early flowering habit, the beauty of its blossom, 
and pronounced violet odor, all render it excep- 
tionally valuable. It blossoms well with me 
the first year, only to serve me like some of the 
daffodils and aicratu77i lilies the second ; a dif- 
ferent soil, possibly, might tell a different story. 
No fault can be found with the common little 
/. piunila, likewise very early, and a species 
which increases rapidly. /. cristata, a very 
dwarf native species, produces large, handsome 
lavender flowers, blossoming almost on the 
ground from its creeping rhizomes. 

All the Iberis are charming evergreen rock- 
plants, the coolest-looking of the spreading spring 
flowers. There can be scarcely anything more 
beautiful to cushion or overhang a ledge of rock 
than any of the forms of this hardy mountaineer. 
The varieties corifolia and correcufolia should 
not be confounded, for both are needed ; the 
latter blossoming when the former has nearly 
passed. There is a blush-tinge to the large- 
flowered Gibraltar ica, otherwise similar to the 



S;t)e a^ocfe==eSartien. 125 

common sempervi'rens, though not so hardy. 
/. tenoriana, with purplish-white flowers, and 
/. jucunda, with small pink blossoms, also de- 
serve a place. Desirable among" white flowers 
is the hardy little Alpine catchfly {Sz'lene alpes- 
tris), and the smaller Tunica saxifraga, that 
blossoms all summer. If you wish sheets of 
blue in June, Veronica verbenacea should not 
be overlooked, a pretty lavender-blue, and V. 
rupestris, a smaller, deeper-colored, and more 
compact variety. V. piimila is loosely habited 
and inferior to either of these. The diminutive 
V. repens is a valuable carpet-plant. It is the 
first of its tribe to appear, almost smothered 
with small pale lavender blossoms in early 
soring. 

Of native wildlings, false Solomon's -seal 
{Smilacitta bifolia) is easily naturalized in 
■ shade. The little yellow star-grass {Hypoxis 
erecta) will grow almost anywhere. Among 
trailing plants proper, there are none which 
exhale such a flavor of the woods as the 
twin-flower {Linncea borealis), a favorite of 
Linnaeus, and named in honor of the great 
botanist. It is not at all difficult to estab- 
lish, as might be supposed, growing in sun- 
shine, and luxuriating in light, moist soil and 
deep shadow. 



126 2ri)e 6Jat"tien's 5btori). 

The partridge-vine {Mitchella rcpens) is 
readily established, and is not over-particular 
as to a sun-umbrella. The partridge or ruffed 
grouse are fond of its sweet fruit, and hence the 
common name. There can be no prettier car- 
pet-plant ; when well established, it forms a thick 
mat of dark-green leaves covered with lilac- 
scented white flowers in June, and studded with 
brilliant scarlet berries in autumn. It is easily 
transplanted. Where it can not be had in large 
clumps, it should be gathered in preference 
from dry, sunny positions, and planted closely 
together, with a layer of chopped sphagnum 
on the ground between and all about it, be- 
ing careful not to cover it. Where the space 
is ample, the false miter- wort {Tiarella cor- 
difolid), also prettily termed foam-flower, may 
be used to advantage. A trailing plant, it is 
a vigorous grower, with large, shining, cordate 
leaves, and graceful racemes of white flowers 
in May, 

The common winter-green, like the common 
polypody, generally prefers nature for a garden- 
er. Even on dry hummocks where it occurs 
wild, it draws an element that it does not seem 
to find with artificial surroundings. I think there 
is much in the heavy condensation at night in 
and near woods and streams which explains the 



5l!)c 3lvoctt=CKartJen. 127 

deterioration of numerous wild plants under cul- 
tivation ; it is not always merely a question of 
soil, shade, or exposure. Many wild trailing 
plants succeed better when grown in large mass- 
es, doubtless because they thus retain the moist- 
ure longer. The winter-green, nevertheless, will 
do fairly well in shade, tightly packed in a mixt- 
ure of old leaf-msld and loam. The goldthread 
{Coptis trifolid) is one of the finest of all small 
carpet-plants, and is easily naturalized in leaf- 
mold and partial shade. 

Vacczmimt macrocarpon, the common cran- 
berry, is a fleet runner over the sphagnum, and 
bears transplanting even in sandy soil, where it 
forms a neat carpet, but not nearly so dense or 
of so thick a pile as the partridge-vine. With 
the Mitchella, Coptis, and Linncea very many 
dainty native wild flowers may be associated, 
such as false Solomon's-seal, Pyrola elliptica 
and rotundifolia, wood-anemones, star-flowers, 
false violet, star-grass, and others. The little 
oak-fern and common polypody look pretty 
springing from the dark undergrowth. But 
the twin-flower, partridge-vine, and goldthread 
are so charming themselves that, in some places 
at least, the carpet should be formed of them 
alone. 

Many of our native orchids are among the 



128 Efft ©^articn's Storj?. 

most beautiful of plants for the shady portion 
of the Alpine garden. The showy orchis (Or- 
chis spectabilis), the earliest of the Orchidacece, 
thrives under cultivation. The yellow lady's- 
slippers {Cypripedhim piibescens and parviflo- 
rum) will do in the open border, but they never 
look appropriate, and the blossoms never attain 
the size or last as long as they do cultivated in 
shade. I have found both in nature, however, 
where the shade had been cut down, with thrifty 
stalks and well-formed roots. Indeed, the habi- 
tat of these two lady's-slippers varies extremely, 
both occurring (the large pubescens particularly) 
on dry, sandy banks and low, swampy woods ; 
in marshy places the plants attain a far larger 
size and remain much longer in blossom. The 
showy or pink lady's-slipper (C. spectabile) is 
likewise easily grown when its natural surround- 
ings are imitated ; it is the showiest of all ter- 
restrial orchids, and among the most distinct 
and beautiful of hardy plants. I find this does 
better, when transplanted, if the new shoot is 
cut out of the old wig of roots below it, the old 
roots seeming to encumber the plant. C. acaule, 
the stemless lady's-slipper, is a very handsome 
variety, erroneously thought to be almost impos- 
sible to establish. I find its purple flower some- 
times in dry places, but commonly in damp 



2rf)e 3^ock-^<ivtitn. 129 

woods. C. arietinum, the ram's-head lady's- 
slipper, a rare form, is easily cultivated in moist 
garden-soil with partial shade. 

Of the Habenarias, H. fimbriata, the great 
fringed orchis which, with psychodes, is found 
in wet, rich leaf-mold, is not difficult to cultivate. 
They are both of marked beauty, the tall, brill- 
iant purple spike of the former being a very con- 
spicuous object in the woods. H. ciliaris, the 
yellow fringed orchis, is difficult to manage. I 
have been surprised to be most successful with 
the most delicate, H. blcphariglottis. This is, 
I think, the loveliest of the Habenarias, attain- 
ing a height of from one to one and a half feet, 
with a spike of white-fringed, deliciously odor- 
ous flowers lasting long in bloom. Its habitat 
is cool sphagnum swamps, the plants springing 
from the clear moss, and never being at all con- 
nected with the soil. The white-fringed orchis 
should be planted in leaf-mold, with a ball of 
sphagnum about the roots, in full or nearly en- 
tire shade. Arethusa bulbosa, also a lover of 
wet places, and one of our most beautiful spe- 
cies, may be cultivated with success if good 
plants are secured to start with. Spiranthes 
cernua, or ladies-tresses, and S. gracilis, are 
neither of them difficult to manage in partial 
shade and sandy loam, and should be cultivated 



130 5ri)c ^arlrcn's Stor». 

for their pretty, late-appearing flowers. Removal 
of most orchids maybe made while the plants 
are in flower, and thus most easily found, by 
lifting them .with a ball ; great care must be ex- 
ercised at any period, however, that the fleshy 
tubers sustain no injury. 

Of British species O, maculata is the most 
satisfactory, the others being capricious, or find- 
ing something unconformable in our climate. 
The dark-purple blotches on the leaves of mac- 
ulata are striking; and while the plant grows 
less strongly than at home, it nevertheless does 
well, its flower resembling a smaller fimbriata, 
but mor^ variable in its shades. The British 
marsh orchis {O. latifolid) is one of the finest 
of the genus, bearing large purplish-pink flowers 
on a long raceme; it is always capricious and 
difficult to manage in its own country. The 
Spanish Orchis foliosa, which is not unlike lati- 
folia, has wintered for three seasons with me, 
though as it does here it is inferior to either of 
our own fine purple Habenarias. 

As to orchid culture, very few of the terres- 
trial species can be grown in sun with that de- 
gree of success which partial shade will give in 
skillful hands. The use of carpet-plants is often 
of benefit to the more delicate species, serving 
to keep the soil cool, and retaining the moisture 



2rf)c ai*octt*ffifnrticiT. 131 

about them ; a few pieces of stone buried around 
them will answer a similar purpose. 

Among suitable rock-plants which should 
not be forgotten are Adonis vernalis (the grace- 
ful rock-cress), the finer cinquefoils, rnany of the 
Silenes, Saponaria ocyrnoides, Lotus corm'cuia- 
tuSy Genista saggitalis, the Dodecatheons, the 
Alyssunis, the Androsaces, the Alpine Dian- 
thus, and such of the Alpine harebells as do 
not spread too much at the root. The species 
and varieties specified in this, and alluded to in 
other chapters, are a few of many desirable 
plants suitable for the rock-garden. 

There are hosts of others I am not familiar 
with that I have not enumerated ; there are 
many that have not been alluded to because 
they are objectionable either on account of 
creeping root-stalks, bad colors, or other rea- 
sons ; there still remain many tender or capri- 
cious subjects it is difficult to manage in our 
trying climate. But each one should try for 
himself plants which he thinks desirable, and 
thus ascertain their adaptability to soil and cli- 
mate. I am informed, for instance, that Onos- 
ina taurica, one of the finest of Alpine plants, 
that is very difficult to manage in England and 
that has failed with me, is successfully grown in 
Boston. I might say the same of many other 



132 



Ef)t C!&art(en's Storg. 



subjects that succeed in certain localities and 
fail in others. Capricious plants, however, should 
not be given up at the first failure. The old 
apothegm, " If at first you don't succeed," is 
especially applicable to many subjects of the 
garden. 





®l)e Summer Jlotocrs. 



Let us be always out of doors among trees and grass and 
rain and wind and sun. Let us get out of these in-door, nar- 
row, modern days, whose twelve hours somehow have become 
shortened, into the sunhght and the pure wind. A something 
that the ancients called divine can be found and felt there still. 
Richard Jefferies, The Amateur Poacher. 





VI. 



THE SUMMER FLOWERS. 




HE procession of summer flowers be- 
gins to form the latter part of May, 
and by the second week of June is 
well started on its march. A late or an early 
spring, a dry or a wet May, makes little differ- 
ence with the state of vegetation on the first of 
the summer months. By that time the equilib- 
rium is always reached, and Nature's balance- 
wheel is found revolving at its accustomed pace. 
Not until the advent of summer do the brilliant 
large flowers appear ; the spring flora is smaller, 
more delicate, and generally more ephemeral. 
You must stoop down for the spring flowers ; the 
summer flowers reach up to you. The procession 
formed in May and augmented in June moves 
steadily through July, when wild lilies blaze and 
tall Habenarias lift their purple spires ; it moves 



136 2rt)c (JKarticn*s Storw. 

onward during August over stubbles gay with 
vervains and willow-herb, and meadows fragrant 
with trumpet-weed ; it files more slowly in Sep- 
tember along streams flaming with cardinal-flow- 
ers and lanes lighted by golden-rod ; until it halts 
and breaks ranks in late October, crowned with 
aster and everlasting, and strewed with painted 
maple-leaves. Do we half appreciate these sum- 
mer days ? We long for them in winter, and wish 
the months were weeks, to bring them nearer to 
us. Let us enjoy them when they come ; let us 
get nearer to this joyous life of nature, and join 
in the procession of the flowers. 

You would know by the scent of the lilacs 
that summer was here. How fragrant the cen- 
ser of June ! how profuse with the scent of 
blossoming vegetation ! — odors not alone from 
myriads of plants, but breathing from orchards, 
hedges, and thickets, rising from woods and 
hill-sides, blown from far meadows and pastures. 
What an exhalation of millions of opening pet- 
als, mingled with the scent of green growing 
things ! It seems as if Nature could not do 
enough when her appointed time arrives ; as if 
there were no end to her prodigality of bloom 
and song and color and sunshine : birds sing- 
ing amid the orchard-blossoms, bees plunging 
into the flower-cups, meadows smothered with 



Efft Summer iFlotoers. 137 

buttercups, swamps golden with marsh-mari- 
golds, woods aflame with honeysuckles, fields 
crimson with clover — bird-song, insect-hum, and 
flower-blossom on every side ! 

Among the large flowers of the garden, the 
germanica section of the irises is first to ap- 
pear. To recommend any special varieties would 
be superfluous ; they are so numerous, and are 
nearly all so beautiful. Easily grown, thriving 
in light soil and sunshine, we rarely see enough 
of them. This would not be the case if people 
would take the trouble to divide large plants, 
and thus not only obtain them more abundantly 
for another year, but increase the size of the 
flowers. The great bearded iris is one of the 
most effective border plants ; the cut flowers 
are also beautiful when arranged with their 
sword-shaped foliage. The Kcempferi, or Jap- 
anese section, is advancing, while the bearded 
iris is in bloom. Of these the varieties and 
colors are also innumerable ; and, while more 
rarely seen, it is likewise one of the finest of 
perennials. Naturally a water-plant, it should 
receive abundance of moisture to acquire its 
full development. Where possible, it should be 
grown as a bog-plant. I should like to see it 
in company with the royal fern, sunk deeply in 
the mire. Where the space of the rock-garden 
11 



138 Srije ^arXten's Storj). 

will allow the use of large subjects, the Japa- 
nese iris may be appropriately employed. This 
species is so slow to advance, that its fine foli- 
age retains its freshness for a very long period. 
The same observation will apply to the use of 
Heinerocallis flava in the rock-garden. The 
English and Spanish sections are much smaller 
species than either of the foregoing. Both have 
wonderful colors in blue, bronze, and gold, but 
are not to be compared with those above men- 
tioned as border plants. /. Susiana, an Ori- 
ental species, is one of the strangest of hardy 
flowers — so weird, indeed, as to startle one on 
first beholding it. It is styled " mourning iris," 
its gray ground singularly and beautifully reticu- 
lated with dark purple. It looks like an Ori- 
ental flower; you find it some morning perched 
upon its stem, a great orchid on an iris stalk. 
Though it will withstand our severe winters 
with protection, and often without, its flowering 
is usually checked. It should be treated like 
the tazetta Narcissus, or stored during the en- 
tire winter. The iris, and, for that matter, all 
desirable and easily grown flowers, should be 
raised on a sufficient scale to afford an abun- 
dant supply for indoor use. 

The PcEoiiias, including the tree, herbaceous, 
and Chinese sections, give us one of our most 



E\)t Siummtv jf\o\3itxn. 139 

lavish floral displays. If you can not grow rho- 
dodendrons, these are excellent substitutes in 
limestone soil ; they are equally floriferous, equal- 
ly large-flowered, and equally varied in coloring. 
Earliest are the single dark crimson and the 
double fennel-leaved F. tenuifolia. The petals 
of the latter are a vivid scarlet-crimson, one of 
the most distinct reds of the year, its feathery 
foliage unlike that of any of its tribe. Roses 
are scarcely finer than some of the fragrant 
Chinese varieties, notably the pure white /es- 
tiva, marked with carmine in the center, the 
dark-crimson Louis Van Houtte, the clear rose 
Huineii and Monsieur Boucharlat, and many 
others. Nor should we forget the old-fashioned 
red "piney," crimsoning in farmers' door-yards 
at the pretty things the great blue-bearded yff^z/r- 
de-lis is telling her. The Pceonia may be said 
to grow itself, and, unlike the rhododendron, is 
perfectly hardy. Beautiful as a single specimen, 
massed in rows or beds few plants can vie with 
it for brilliancy. 

I always rejoice when the azalea blooms. In 
it I find a charm presented by no other flower. 
Its soft tints of buff, sulphur, and primrose, its 
dazzHng shades of apricot, salmon, orange, and 
vermilion, are always a fresh revelation of color. 
They have no parallel among flowers, and exist 



140 E\)t CGnrtren's Stor^. 

only in opals, sunset skies, and the flush of au- 
tumn woods. I admit that the rhododendron is 
magnificent where it can be acclimated ; but, even 
in England and on the Continent, it is exceeded 
in gorgeousness by the azalea. Then, its deli- 
cious, uncloying perfume — why does not Piesse 
embody it in an essence ? Its common name, 
— swamp pink — brings up its odor and its flame. 
A bed of azaleas with a foil of dark green is a 
sight worth going miles to see, and an acquisi- 
tion worth obtaining at any price of peat and 
culture. The Ghent nursery-men who have de- 
veloped its hues should receive a medal of rubies, 
topazes, and zircons, executed by a Cellini. 

To the crossing of our common American 
species, nudijiora, calendidacea, and viscosa, 
with A. Pontzca of southern Europe, and then 
selecting the best varieties raised from the seed 
of these crosses, we owe the so-called Ghent 
azalea. A. mollis, the Japanese and Chinese 
form, has been equally improved through hybrid- 
ization and selection ; these are smaller plants, 
with larger flowers. The azalea will not thrive 
in limestone soil, but should be grown in peat, 
or leaf-mold mixed with garden-soil, the soil well 
firmed about the plants. In the latitude of the 
lower lake region they require winter protec- 
tion. With the azalea should be associated the 



Eftc Summer JI'lolDers. 141 

native tall-growing lilies, Canadense, Canadejise 
rubrum, and super bum. 

A desirable border-plant is the columbine, or 
Aquilegia, in its many forms. Few perennials 
grow as easily from seed. They so very readily 
take crosses, however, that, where many are 
grown together, they can not be reproduced in 
the same character from their own seed. A. 
chrysantha, a Rocky Mountain species, with 
long-spurred, canary-colored flowers, and A. coe- 
riilea^ with deep-blue sepals and white petals, 
from the same region, are the finest of the larger 
North American columbines. A. longissima is 
a species of western Texas, described as " flow- 
ers opening upward, spreading widely ; of a pale 
yellow, or sometimes nearly white, or tinged 
with red." Its remarkable characteristic is its 
immense spurs, four inches and upward in 
length. It has been raised from seed in the 
Cambridge Botanic Garden, but- has proved ten- 
der in that latitude. A contributor of "Gar- 
den and Forest," where it was recently figured, 
makes this interesting comment on its wonder- 
ful spur-formation : " In view of the recognized 
adaptation of flowers and insects to each other 
for mutual benefit, it is a question what long- 
tongued moths have developed side by side with 
this long-spurred flower, and how far the plant 



142 Etft ^Jartren's Storj?. 

is really dependent upon such insects for fertili- 
zation." With the common scarlet columbine 
(A. Canadensis) almost every one is familiar. 
under cultivation it nearly doubles in size. 
There are numerous other American species, 
but none so fine as the Rocky Mountain forms. 
Many fine hybrids have been raised from these. 
A cross with the white form of A. vulgaris on 
ccerulea has produced a flower of similar form 
to the latter, but of a pure snow-white color, 
two of these seedlings yielding double white 
flowers of the size and form of coerulea. These 
white forms, including the common white, are 
among the most beautiful of all. A. glandu- 
losa, the Altaian columbine, and the scarce A. 
Stuarti, a hybrid between A. glandulosa and 
A. Wit7nanni, are pronounced the finest of the 
genus where they can be successfully grown, 
both requiring moisture at the roots, with perfect 
drainage. 

Of the several kinds of Heinerocallis seen in 
gardens, none equals H. Jiava, the old-fash- 
ioned and always beautiful " yellow lily." Why 
the rusty-colored fulva should be cultivated at 
all, when there are so many better things to take 
its place, is beyond comprehension ; yet country 
yards and city gardens are overrun with this 
coarse, spreading plant, whose flower is neither 



2ri)c -Summer jj'lotoersf. 143 

red nor orange, nor a good combination of both. 
It would require a gross of grub-hoes to eradi- 
cate it from the highway leading from any one 
village to another. Altogether a different plant 
is H. flava, frequently seen in country gardens. 
Indeed, the country garden often shows us the 
finest specimens ; and I have sometimes thought, 
the more dilapidated the homestead and the 
larger the blue myrtle patch, the finer the golden 
clumps of the day-lily. 

My garden was already generously stocked 
with this favorite plant, when, driving in the 
country, I saw two such uncommonly fine clumps 
growing in the unmown grass of a farm-yard, 
that the remembrance of them haunted me for 
days. I had no peace of mind until I should 
secure them. How they would light the front 
border ! What vasefuls of cut blooms they 
would supply, without so much as being missed ! 
An exchange for a dozen rose-bushes was the 
inducement I held out to the old lady who 
owned the coveted plants. The offer was ac- 
cepted — not, however, without much persua- 
sion ; and the huge clumps, which one man 
could scarcely lift, were duly transferred to a 
post of honor. They threw up three spikes of 
bloom the following season ! Perhaps they 
missed the chanticleer of the farm-yard to waken 



144 ^t)e ©^articn's Stori>. 

them into bloom ; perhaps they mourned the 
old lady's absence who had planted them and 
watched them and smelled them and compli- 
mented them, and given slips of them to her old 
lady neighbors — who knows ? I may add that, 
since being transplanted, the plants have become 
re-estabhshed, and now flower with their form^er 
luxuriance. In these same tumble-down farm- 
steads flourish many a colony of the double 
poet's narcissus, which neither you nor I can 
grow under trees or in the open border half so 
successfully. 

H. Kwanzo variegata is a large-leaved plant, 
attractive for its variegated foliage. H. Kwa7izo 
fi. pi. is a robust species, preferable to H. 
fidva, H. graminea is a smaller flava in 
flower and foliage, and would be desirable were 
it not for its bad habit of spreading much at the 
root. I have found this almost ineradicable 
where it has obtained a strong foothold. The 
least particle of its white rootlets, under favor- 
able circumstances, forms a plant if left in the 
ground, and it soon spreads and undermines its 
neighbors. None of the species equals the old- 
fashioned flava, one of the most satisfactory 
and beautiful of hardy flowers. It should be 
planted along the borders of a long drive -way, 
to realize its superb grace and beauty. 



2r|)e Summer iFIotuers. 145 

Another fine, old-fashioned, tall-growing per- 
ennial occasionally seen in country gardens is 
the fraxinella {Dictainnus fraxinelld), so named 
from its pinnate leaves, resembling those of the 
ash. Its two forms, the pink-purple and the 
white, bear showy terminal racemes of larkspur- 
like flowers in June. Apart from its flowers and 
graceful foliage, its most attractive characteristic 
is the spicy fragrance of both leaves and blossoms. 
It suggests anise, sweet-clover, and lavender. 

So powerful is the volatile oil generated by 
its flowers, that a lighted match held several 
inches above the plant,-on a still, hot summer's 
evening, will cause a flame to appear. A native 
of the Levant and southern Europe, it may be 
increased both from seed and root-division, the 
former being preferable. You should plant it 
along your favorite walk, with the lemon-balm 
and the anise-scented giant hyssop, so that you 
may pluck a leaf of them as you pass. 

I see, in many an old homestead along the 
shaded highway, the prim box-hedge inclosing 
the garden of old-fashioned fiowers. Often as 
the swallow returns do they rise anew and blos- 
som with perennial freshness. The flowering 
locust-trees, and the tansy-bed running wild out- 
side the fence, give a hint of the fragrance 
within, where I see the water-bucket ready for 



146 2rt)e CiRarTjen's Stotj. 



its floral libation. I push open the wooden gate, 
to be greeted by the first snow-drops, the daffo- 
dils, the yellow crown-imperials, the grape- 
hyacinths. I see the blue irises, the larkspurs, 
the bell-flowers, the bachelor -buttons, the 
monk's-hood. I note the big double white pop- 
pies, the clumps of sweet-clover, the drifts of 
snow-pinks, the white phloxes. I see the Diely- 
tras, the sweet-williams, the tall, yellow tulips, 
the sword-grass and ribbon-grass, and Trades- 
cantia. I smell the sweet-peas, the valerian, the 
madonna-lilies, the white and purple stocks. I 
inhale the breath of the lilies of the valley, the 
brier-rose, the white day-lily, and the purple wis-' 
taria twining about the porch. I see, too, the 
double-flowering rockets, the spotted tiger-lilies, 
the dahlias, the rows of hollyhocks, and the 
phalanx of sunflowers. 

Then, the flowering shrubs of the old-fash- 
ioned garden — the snowberries, honeysuckles, 
and roses of Sharon, the storm of the snow- 
balls, the mock-oranges, and the great white 
lilacs leaning over the hedge, heavy with their 
blossom and perfume. Nor is the herb-garden 
of the Fourth Georgic forgotten, where 

Cassia green and thyme shed sweetness round, 
Savory and strongly scented mint abound, 
Herbs that the ambient air with fragrance fill. 



Ef)t .Summer iFlotocrs. 147 

Here grow mint, marjoram, anise, sweet-basil, 
catnip, lavender, thyme, coriander, summer- 
savory, and, last but not least of the fragrant 
labiates, the pungent sage, that v^^ill ruin the 
dressing of many a Thanksgiving turkey. A 
sassafras-tree not unfrequently grows, by acci- 
dent or design, somewhere about the yard ; and 
there is sure to be a red horse-chestnut, or 
a trumpet-flower, for the humming-birds to 
plunge in. 

How the swallows wheel and dive over the 
weather-beaten barn, and twitter among the 
eaves they have visited generation after genera- 
tion ! And what a honey-laden wave surges 
over the neighboring clover-field ! I recall such 
a farmstead on the crest of the Livingston hills, 
where farm-life always appears at its pleasant- 
est. All around it extends the panorama of 
wood, ravine, and purple upland, changing with 
every change of atmosphere, open to every effect 
of sun and cumulus-cloud. Here, I thought, a 
philosopher might find the coveted stone. Life 
always seems so restful and its current so placid 
on the summer hills. But we forget the blight- 
ing frost, the moaning blast, the wintry shroud. 
In life, things are pretty evenly balanced, after 
all ; and while summer is delightful in the coun- 
try, to the most of us, in winter, it is pleasanter 



148 2rt)e CSartien's Stotg. 

to think of in the city. Those who really love 
the country in its harsher aspects are few. I 
doubt if there exists another Thoreau for whom 
" the morning wind forever blows, bearing the 
broken strains, or celestial parts only, of terres- 
trial music." 

I see, too, the neglected farm-garden ; one 
passes many such along the dusty road. Here, 
an old locust and mock -orange have been 
allowed to sprout at will ; the blue iris has crept 
outside the fence, with clumps of double daffo- 
dils turned over by the plow and flung on to 
the road-side. There, is a jungle of stunted 
quinces and blighted pear-trees. The spreading 
myrtle-patch has usurped the place of what was 
once a lawn ; tall thistles, hog-weed, pig- weed, 
and burdocks make and scatter seed year after 
year ; an army of weeds has overrun the path — 
the plantain, purslane, goose-grass, dandeHon, 
joint-weed, and mallow ; and a green goose- 
pond, over which are hovering yellov/ butterflies, 
exhales its miasma in the sun. Once the gar^ 
den was beautiful, famous for its old-fashioned 
flowers, and many are the " slips " the neighbors 
obtained from its floral stores. The grain-fields 
and fat pastures corresponded with the luxuri- 
ance within. But the farm changed hands on 
the death of the owner, and the new owner 



5r!)e Summer JFlotoers. 149 

cared little for the flowers, and has left the farm- 
lands mostly to themselves. I always hurry by 
the farmstead ; its dilapidated out-buildings look 
as if they might be haunted by the ghosts of 
starved and neglected animals. 

As I stroll through the garden toward even- 
ing, I find the brown May-fly has suddenly ap- 
peared in legions. Every bush and tree swarms 
v^ith them ; while, high as one can see, the air is 
throbbing with their undulating flight. Now 
up, now down they go, flitting on wings of gos- 
samer, their antennee and long tails balancing 
them in their graceful dance of an hour. Is it 
simply to gorge the bats and the trout, which 
make the most of the insect-manna, that the 
May-fly is sent .^— for the naturalists do not as- 
cribe a cause for its brief existence, in the rea- 
son of nature. 

The first of the innumerable young broods 
of sparrows are fledged, and have begun their 
interminable shrieking. The foliage is so thick 
that it is almost impossible to shoot them ; and 
to attempt poisoning them is out of the question, 
on account of the few remaining song-birds. 
How wretched they render human life ! What 
a constant burden for the ear to bear ! If they 
would only mew like the cat-bird, or do anything 
to vary the tedium of their incessant " Cheep ! 



150 2rf)e ©fartren's Storg. 

cheep ! ! cheep ! I ! " I envy the deaf, and the 
fat men who drown all other sounds with the 
sound of their own wheezing. My neighbor's 
parrot, who yells like all the fiends of Dante's 
Inferno, has at least the merit of variety in his 
voice. If the sparrow continues to multiply, 
there will be a new verdict rendered at coroners' 
juries ; his monotonous cry is fast abbreviating 
the allotted span of mankind. 

Meanwhile, the floral procession is advancing 
in the flower-borders. The large Oriental pop- 
pies are rightly named, and, with their fine 
foliage and immense flame-colored blossoms, are 
undoubtedly the most gorgeous of garden-flow- 
ers. You could almost light your pipe from 
them. The variety bracteatum is the stouter 
grower, holding its stalks more firmly and erect, 
and is the superior in the color and beauty of 
its lustrous, dark scarlet flower. The petals of 
the Oriental poppy are oddly marked with pur- 
ple-black spots inside, forming a black cross. 
Parkman's Oriental poppy, originated near Bos- 
ton, is another fine form, as yet rarely seen. 
The Oriental poppies and the yellow day-lily, 
blossoming at the same period, should be large- 
ly employed in the border and other suitable 
places of the garden. 

I have planted the tall, late-flowering tulips 



JTfje 5&ummer iFlotoers. 151 

freely among the poppies, the luxuriant foliage 
of the latter concealing the naked base of the 
tulips. A mass of tulips thus grown produces 
a much finer effect than when bedded by them- 
selves. The tulip invariably looks better in neg- 
lected gardens for this reason ; it is seldom seen 
rising from the bare earth, generally springing 
from the grass or shrubbery, or at least having 
a background of green. Seeds of these big Ori- 
entals should be sown in February in the green- 
house, so that they may germinate early, be 
pricked off, and form strong plants to set out as 
soon as possible in May. While they are per- 
fectly hardy, small plants are generally winter- 
killed. I find growing among my P. bractea- 
tiim, raised from seed, a distinct variety with 
smaller flowers of a peculiar and very beautiful 
cherry-red. 

We must go to the Orientals to learn the 
true use and significance of flowers. " Very 
beautiful are the flower customs here," says a 
writer from the lands of Kalidasa and Firdusi. 
" In Bombay, I found the Parsees use the Victo- 
ria Gardens chiefly to walk in, 'to eat the air.' 
Their enjoyment of it was heartily animal. The 
Hindoo would stroll through them, attracted 
from flower to flower not by its form or color 
but its scent. He would pass from plant to 



152 E\)t C!5artrcn*s Storj). 

plant, snatching at the flowers and crushing 
them between his fingers as if he were taking 
snuff. Presently a Persian, in flowing robe of 
blue, and on his head his sheep-skin hat, would 
saunter in, and stand and meditate over every 
flower he saw, and always as if half in vision ; 
and when the vision was fulfilled, and the ideal 
flower he was seeking found, he would spread 
his mat and sit before it, and fold up his mat 
again and go home. And the next night, and 
night after night, until that particular flower 
faded away, he would return to it, and bring his 
friends in ever-increasing troops to it, and sit 
and play the guitar and lute before it, and they 
would all together pray there, and after prayer 
still sit before it, sipping sherbet and talking late 
into the moonlight ; and so again and again 
every evening, until the flower died. Some- 
times, by way of a grand finale, the whole 
company would suddenly rise before the flower 
and serenade it with an ode from Hafiz, and 
depart." 

I suppose we could not do without the June 
Pyrethrum, it is so floriferous, and has such 
feathery, deep-green foliage. Nevertheless, I see 
no excuse for littering up a garden with some 
of its crimson-magentas or magenta-crimsons. 
Weeded of its bad colors and bad centers, it is 



5rt)c Summer i^lotoers. 153 

certainly worthy of all praise. It lasts long, and 
its flowers are excellent for cutting. 

Speaking of bad colors, I think there is much 
in what a young lady once observed to me at a 
ball, the conversation turning on the newly deco- 
rated rooms. "I don't think the glaring combi- 
nations and unhappy uses of color we frequently 
see in houses and exhibited in dress so much the 
fault of individual taste as of a deficiency of the 
color-sense. Let us count the green dresses, of 
which there seem to be an unusually large num- 
ber present, and I assure you in advance that at 
least every third person you ask will pronounce 
the delicate shades of green blue. It is the 
same with reds. A hideous solferino looks all 
right to some ; it appears the same shade to 
them, doubtless, as a cardinal or a terra-cotta or 
some other shade does to you. I haven't the 
slightest doubt that color-bhndness is at the 
bottom of much of the distress that one's eyes 
are forced to encounter." Solferino and magen- 
ta, or shades closely touching upon them, should 
not be tolerated in the garden. They are weeds, 
that ought to be eradicated as soon as they ap- 
pear. 

A writer in the London " Garden " gives a 
simple rule to determine whether colors harmo- 
nize : " People who have no natural perception of 
12 



154 2r!)e ffiar'Oen'iS .Storj?. 

color can not be trained to arrange colors har- 
moniously by any code of rules ; but those who 
have a natural feeling for color can find out 
whether any two colors harmonize by a very 
easy test. Place the colors separately on a gray, 
white, or black ground. If they are brighter, 
richer, and fuller together than separately, they 
harmonize ; but if not, they should not be placed 
together." 

I could say more in favor of spiraea or Hoteia 
Japonica were it not so susceptible to the hot 
sun. Charming so long as it remains fresh, dur- 
ing average seasons its foliage is soon blighted 
and its beauty destroyed. The hardy, large 
perennial spirseas are beautiful with their grace- 
ful spikes and plumes and panicles. Of these, 
S. arimcus, the familiar goat's-beard, is among 
the finest when well established and allowed 
sufficient room to attain its full development. 
S. Humboldtii is equally robust, though its flow- 
ers are not so pure a white. The species fili- 
pendula and its double are worthy a place in 
the border if only for their graceful, fern-like 
foliage. S. ulmarza fl. pL, and its form with 
golden variegated foliage, are both desirable 
species. The prairie Spircea lobata, with its 
rosy carmine cymes, must take the place of the 
finest of all the meadow-sweets, the Japanese S. 



E\)t Summct iFlotoers. 155 

palmata, which does not thrive in this cHmate. 
Under cultivation, all the herbaceous spirseas 
prefer partial shade, and, to appear at their best, 
should be supplied with water in hot weather, 
or their appearance is soon marred by withered 
foliage. 

What would the old-fashioned garden do 
without the sweet-william ; and the new-fash- 
ioned one, too, for that matter ? It is as indis- 
pensable as the snow-pink, the carnation, and 
the aster. '' Die fallen ins Aug'! " they fall into 
the eye, to quote from the gardener once more, 
an apothegm I think worth embalming. Gay 
they are, with their infinite colorings and their 
prodigality of bloom. The Dianthus are all of 
them pretty, notwithstanding the interminable 
appellation of one, Dianthus sinensis Heddewigi 
diademattcs Jiore pleno ! Leave them alone, and 
they will sow themselves ; sow the seed on good 
ground, and they reward you a thousand-fold. 
They vie with the auriculas in their merry eyes, 
and are almost as brilliant and fourfold as last- 
ing as the poppies, unless I except the Iceland- 
ers. Even the old maids love their sweet-will- 
iams. In Gerarde's day it was " esteemed for its 
beauty to deck up the bosoms of the beautiful, 
and garlands and crowns for pleasure." It is 
well to caution those who grow it, however, not 



156 STfje €fartren's Storjj. 

to place it close to gravel-walks, where the seeds 
are apt to drop and cause no little trouble ; they 
germinate so freely. Seeds should be saved 
from the best kinds, most desirable colors, and 
strongest trusses. The Eschscholtzia and Core- 
opsis become almost a pest unless the seed-cap- 
sules are cut off, and the Calendtda is also 
troublesome in this respect ; but the latter may 
be excused, it^is so warm and steadfast in late 
autumn when we could hardly do without it for 
cut flowers. 

With the sweet-william is often associated 
another old garden^ favorite, the snow-pink {Di- 
a?ithus phmiariiis), a charming subject when 
well grown. I once saw an immense patch of 
this in front of a country cottage, growing so 
luxuriantly that the fragrance drifted far out on 
to the highway. I stopped to inquire of the 
genius loci, who was busy with her watering- 
can, how she grew them so finely and so pro- 
fusely. " I pinch them, give them plenty of 
water, and keep up a fresh stock from cuttings 
every two years." The old story, I thought ; 
new words to the old tune — " care." 

The large bell-flowers are doing excellent 
duty as flowering-plants, notably the old-fash- 
ioned Canterbury bells {Campanula inediimi). 
Their immense scalloped goblets of diversified 



2ri)e .Summer i^lotoers. 157 

colors are preferable in the single to the double 
and duplex forms. The several spfkes are stout 
and the species is of robust habit, altogether a 
grand border-plant. So also is the strong and 
taller C. macrantha with blue-purple bells. It 
should have a partially shaded place in the back 
row of every border. The peach-leaved bell- 
flower (C persiscifolid) is an excellent border- 
plant, but does not hold itself erect like the other 
species, and therefore needs staking. All plants, 
it may be observed, that require support should 
be staked early, instead of being left until they 
begin to flag. For supports iron stakes are the 
neatest. The Austrian harebell (C pulld), a 
small species with lovely, drooping purple bells, 
would be an admirable subject for the rock-gar- 
den were it not for its rambling root-stalks. C. 
barbata, the bearded harebell of Switzerland, I 
have not found as satisfactory as some of its 
relatives. 

To judge from the description and illustra- 
tion, the finest of the bell-flowers — if it may 
justly be termed a bell-flower — must be the 
Bokhara bell-flower {Ostrowskia magjiificd), just 
introduced into Europe, a grand chime of bells 
crowning a tall, leafy spire. The stem is stout, 
from three to five feet high, the leaves in whorls ; 
and the flowers, which are five inches or more 



158 2ri)e ©fartten's Stor^. 

in diameter, placed in loose terminal panicles — 
pale mauve Varying to light blue, with a large, 
club-like stigma. A country that can produce 
such rugs as Bokhara, acquiring with time a 
color and bloom like that of a ripe peach and 
plum, ought to contribute an extraordinary flow- 
er; but whether the flower will improve with 
age and wear in a foreign climate is as yet unde- 
termined. 

I do not hear anything of the great Califor- 
nian poppy wort {Romneya Coidteri')^ which 
created such a stir on its introduction into Eng- 
land. Mr. F. A. Miller, of San Francisco, who 
introduced it twelve or fourteen years ago, wrote 
me, " There is no flower that combines so many 
good qualities — such a fragrance, beauty, and 
general effect — as this plant." Unfortunately, 
it will not survive our rigorous climate, and I 
believe it has failed to establish itself in most 
gardens where it has been tried in England. In 
her plants California is not accommodating, as a 
general rule. Nature having for the most part 
suited them only to the climate of their birth. 
They are ill adapted to our sudden snaps of 
winter returned. 

The roses are now in their prime. I had 
occasion to cut a collection this morning — June 
22d — rising shortly after three o'clock. A rustling 



3rf)e Summei: jFlotoers. 159 

of the tree-tops was the first precursor of dawn — 
the breeze which nearly always precedes awak- 
ening day. At 3.20, before it was yet light, the 
cat-bird was first of the songsters to salute the 
morn. Five minutes afterward the wood-pewee 
drowsily voiced the first two notes of his refrain 
— " whe-ii whe, whee-u !" In just two minutes 
more a robin began his matin song, followed by 
the crowing of the cocks, which quickly ceased, 
until at 3.40 the wood-pewee began whistling 
merrily, immediately succeeded by the robins, 
wood-thrushes, sparrows, and various song-birds, 
all joining in the morning chorus. At four the 
crescendo was at its height, when it gradually 
dimiinished, soon leaving the sparrows in almost 
undisf)uted possession. I found the honey- 
bees busy among the raspberry-blossoms a few 
minutes after four, and the big bumble-bees 
but a little later to begin their morning task. 
Of all these early risers I for once was the 
earliest. 

The hollyhock may be termed a great power 
in July. Classed as a biennial, it might almost 
come under the head of perennials, being as 
permanent as many true perennials. It was a 
favorite of Wordsworth and is also of Tennyson. 
Tennyson's summer, 

. . . buried deep in hollyhocks, 



i6o JTfjc ©JarDen's ^torj. 

is expressive of the luxuriance of this Chinese 
flower. It should be seen in long rows, in well- 
drilled color-columns, to exhibit its most striking 
effect, each plant a sentinel in uniform, and each 
with rosettes brighter than his fellows. The 
hollyhock will grow anywhere ; it will grow 
doubly well with deep cultivation, and when lib- 
erally manured and watered during dry weather. 
Dampness being injurious during winter, it is 
recommended to remove the earth about the 
crowns in autumn and fill up with six inches of 
white sand. Propagation is effected from eyes, 
seeds, cuttings, and division. The thrip and 
red spider are fond of the hollyhock, and hence 
the rusty appearance so many plants present. 
If you have four or five gardeners, this may be 
obviated by syringing every leaf, upper and un- 
der side, of the long rows daily with whale-oil 
soap and tobacco-water. The hollyhock also 
demands an admission fee. 

The graceful spring bitter-vetch {Orobus 
vermis) is past its flowering, but still retains its 
handsome foliage. Hieraceiim aurantiacum has 
passed, after showing its peculiar orange-red 
flowers, even more odd in color than those of 
the native orange-red milkweed that stains the 
sandy places in midsummer. The creamy 
trusses of the tall valerian are a hive of sweet- 



2rt)e Slimmer iFIotoers. i6i 

ness, and the yellow camomile {Anikemzs tinc- 
torid) is covered with its daisy-like flowers, re- 
joicing in the increasing heat. It will soon be 
succeeded by Coreopsis lanceolata, another of 
the showy yellow composites, with the ever- 
blooming pea, the double-flowering rocket, and 
the large-leaved day-lilies, of which Sieboldii has 
the finest foliage, and the white variety the finest 
and sweetest flower. 

Not without just reason is the larkspur in- 
cluded among the nine flowers specified in the 
garden of " Maud " — the woodbine, jasmine, vio- 
let, acacia, pimpernel, rose, lily, passion-flower, 
and larkspur. Keats should have included it in 
his sonnet on blue. Holmes alludes to it neatly 
in the " Autocrat " : 

Light as a loop of larkspurs — 

light in its poise, and light or dark, as you wish 
it, in its complexion, and beautiful in all its 
forms. 

Sauntering at dusk through the fragrant gar- 
den alleys, I hear as in a dream the last faint 
notes of the vesper-sparrow ; and see, kindling 
the edge of the covert and sparkling amid the 
shrubbery-glooms, the myriad fire-fly revelers 
merrily dancing out the last sweet night of June. 




toa (^arben favoxitcQ. 



I love the lily as the first of flowers, 

Whose stately stalk so straight up is and stay. 

Alexander Montgomery. 

. . . The coming rose, 
The very fairest flower, they say, that blows. 
Such scent she hath ; her leaves are red, they say, 
And fold her round in some divine, sweet way. 

Philip Bourke Marston. 






VII. 
TWO GARDEN FAVORITES. 

|LPHABETICALLY, the lily comes be- 
fore the rose ; and in the summer- 
garden, which would lack its greatest 
charm if deprived of either, the common orange- 
lily appears before the first June rose. 

Is this significant ; and shall I say the flower 
singled out in the sixth chapter of St. Matthew's 
Gospel excels its sister in floral graces and vir- 
tues ? The rose, as we generally admire it, as it 
is eulogized by the poets, is a florist's flower. 
Its rival, equally well known, and almost if not 
as freely extolled in poetry, owes less to man and 
more to nature. I would not detract from the 
rose, when I say it is less graceful than the lily 
and its form more artificial. In comparative' 
merits of color and fragrance it would be difficult 
to discriminate; each has its claims that may 



1 66 Efft ®farTien's Stotw. 

not be overlooked. I may add, on the other 
hand, if you smell of a lily you are liable to be 
stained by its pollen ; and if you pluck a rose, 
there lurks the hidden thorn. Perhaps the lily 
and the rose, or the rose and the lily, furnish a 
case in point where comparisons are odious, and 
each one may better decide for himself which is 
the superior flower. 

I begin with the lily, therefore, because it 
comes first alphabetically, and is first to appear. 
Whispered the white lily to me : I am the em- 
blem of purity, the type of saintliness ; at the 
altar and at the tomb I bring joy and consola- 
tion ; in the garden I am sweet beyond all my 
companions, and with my whiteness none can 
compare ; I am sweet, I am chaste, I am beloved 
by all. Do you know my origin ? " Jupiter 
wished to make his boy Hercules (born of a 
mortal) one of the gods : so he snatched him 
from the bosom of his earthly mother, Alcmena, 
and bore him to the breast of the god-like Juno. 
The milk is spilled from the full-mouthed boy as 
he traverses the sky (making the Milky Way), 
and what drops below stars and clouds and 
touches earth, stains the ground with lilies." 

So extensive and beautiful is the genus 
Liliimi, so varied in form, color, and periods of 
blossoming, that, like the daffodil, a garden might 



5rb)o ^artien ifaborites. 167 

be composed of it alone. We readily concede 
its beauty ; the next thing is to manage it. " The 
more I see of lilies, the less I know how to grow 
them," is a wise maxim of H. J. Elwes. One re- 
quires tact and perseverance to grow the lily. 
Very many of its numerous species are fastidious, 
quick to express their likes and dislikes ; some, 
indeed, refuse to yield to culture unless in a cli- 
mate of their own choosing. Yet, after all, most 
of the species may be satisfactorily grown if 
proper attention be paid to soil, position, and 
protection. 

While the majority of the genus are hardy, 
and very many are natives of cold climates or 
high elevations, w^inter protection to nearly all 
species is nevertheless advisable with us. If the 
ground remained covered with snow the entire 
winter, the bulbs would not suffer. It is the 
alternate and frequent changes from freezing to 
thawing which contract and heave the ground 
that causes the trouble, the bulbs themselves 
contracting and expanding with the changes of 
temperature. No less important is the matter 
of drainage : very few lilies will endure being 
water-logged ; very few, also, will endure ma- 
nure about their bulbs. The manure harbors 
wire-worms, which are fond of the lily's ten- 
der scales. To obviate this, and to strength- 



1 68 E'tfz ^artren's Storg. 

en root-action, all lilies, on being planted, should 
receive a liberal sprinkling of sharp sand about 
the bulbs. 

With us the lily is even more susceptible to 
drought than to frost, and failure is oftener the 
result of shallow planting and. poor soil, than 
owing to the rigors of our winter climate. Very 
much depends on good, deep, and congenial soil, 
and healthy bulbs to start with. Partial shade, 
with some species, is absolutely necessary, and 
all are benefited by, and some will not grow at 
all without, a liberal supply of moisture. Differ- 
ent species are as different in their requirements 
as they vary in the character of their bulbs and 
their periods of flowering. What holds good of 
one climate often does not of another. I have 
seen magnificent beds of established Liliu7n aii- 
rattwi and speciosu7n on the Eastern coast in 
open sun, that it would be utterly impossible to 
grow without shade in the lower lake region. 
They liked not only the peat and deep trenching, 
but extracted a tonic from the sea-air, which just 
met their requirements. It is one thing to grow 
certain plants where the climate itself grows 
them ; it is quite another thing where they have 
to be cajoled into tractability. The more diffi- 
cult the task, however, the greater the satisfac- 
tion to accomplish it ; success is always pleasant, 



SrtDO ©artien iFaborftes. 169 

whether to grow a capricious flower or banish a 
troublesome weed. 

The following is the last classification adopt- 
ed by Mr. J. G. Baker in his " Synopsis of all the 
Known Lilies," published in 1875 : 

I. Subgenus Cardiocrinum (leaves heart- 
shaped). Types : L. cordifolium, L. gigan- 
teum. 

II. Subgenus EULIRION (flowers funnel- 
shaped). Types : L. longijiorum, L. catidi- 
dum, L. Washingtonia7ium. 

III. Subgenus Archelirion (flowers open). 
Types : L. tigrznmn, L. speciosum, L. aura- 
tum. 

IV. Subgenus ISOLIRION (flowers erect). 
Types : L. crocemn, L. concolor, L. Philadel- 
phicum. 

V. Subgenus Martagon (flowers turban- 
shaped). Types : L. martagojt, L. superbtwi, 
L. pomponiiim, L. polyphyllum. 

If one would go distracted on the subject of 
forms and varieties, he should peruse the anno- 
tated " Alphabetical List of the Species and Va- 
rieties of Lilium," compiled by M. d'Hoop, a Bel- 
gian amateur, published in vol. xxvii, No. 692, 
of the London "Garden." Thus, under Z. Cana- 
dense, its principal varieties are described as L. 
C, superbiwt (intermediate between Canadense 
13 



170 2rt)c ffiartien*» Stotji. 

and superbum), L. C. rubruui, L. C, Hartwegi, 
L. C. minus, L. C. occidentale, L. C. parviflo- 
rimi, L. C. parviim, L. C. pubcrulnm, L. C. 
Walkeri. No less than seven forms of L. Phi- 
ladelphicwn are mentioned : L. P. andinuni, L. 
P. wanscharictmi, L. P. of Brentwood, L. P, 
of Connecticut, L, P. of Massachusetts, L. P. of 
the Orange Mountains, L. P. varietas Hookeri. 
First among the lilies is one of the three most 
common and easily-grown species, the tall orange- 
lily (Z. croceum). This would show to better 
advantage if it did not appear with the Oriental 
poppies, which overpower everything else in red 
about them. The orange-lily looks best spring- 
ing from the shrubbery, and, like the tiger-lily, 
needs to be seen in strong, well-established 
clumps, to show its real characteristics. The 
orange-lily is succeeded, a few days later, by one 
of the finest of lilies, the Caucasian L. colchi- 
cinn, much less frequently seen than its merit 
deserves — a soft canary-yellow flower, speckled 
with small dark-brown spots on either rim of the 
petals, and exhaling an intense and individual 
odor. It is a slow species to arrive at perfection, 
and, owing to the cernuous habit of its flower, is 
not seen at its best until well established and its 
stems rise to their full height. As it blossoms 
with the conspicuous lemon-yellow day-lily, it 



2rbo CKartJcn J^aborftes. 171 

should be placed where it may be seen by itself. 
This species varies not a little in the character of 
its flowers, some being larger and deeper-colored 
than others, and having the petals more freely 
spotted ; it is one of the easiest of lilies to raise 
from seed. L. colchicum does well in the open 
sun, but grows larger in partial shade, where it 
also holds its flowers and foliage better. 

The voracious rose-beetle is becoming more 
and more omnivorous. Prompt to appear with 
the first white Madame Plantier rose, his armies 
soon pounce upon the white pjeonias, which 
would be utterly ruined were he not kept in 
check. Last year he added the white Iceland 
poppy and Spircea filipendula to his bill of fare, 
and to-day I find him attacking the colchicum 
lilies. One can not gather a bucketful and toss 
them into one's neighbor's garden, for they would 
only fly back again. My neighbor, who lets his 
chickweed and dandelions go to seed, is, I think, 
the main cause of their increasing numbers, for 
he never lifts a finger to destroy them. 

Siberia contributes one of the smallest and 
earliest of the lily family in L. tenuifolmm, pret- 
tier as a cut-flower than when growing out of 
doors, where its many wide-branched blooms 
and sparse leafage on slender stalks give it a top- 
heavy appearance. Its small vermilion, wax- 



172 Efft CKartJcn's Storj. 

like, and strongly-scented flowers are distinct 
among the turbans. 

Z. pulchelluni, another small red species, 
from Siberia, blossoms with tenuifoliu7n. Both 
of these do best in sandy soil, as does also the 
common Vv'ild orange-red lily (Z. Philadelphi- 
cu7n), a most beautiful early species. You have 
seen its single and sometimes two and three flow- 
ered blossoms lighting the June meadows and 
sandy hill-sides. Its blossoms seldom number 
more than three. A gigantic specimen I once 
found with eight blossoms, and which I carefully 
transplanted with a large ball, divided itself into 
four stalks the following season. 

I do not wonder that the Madonna lily (Z. 
ca7tdiduni) has been claimed as an emblem by 
nearly a hundred saints. It seems to have a 
special charm of its own, so chaste it is, so in- 
violable in its purity. The roses and the big 
blue larkspurs come into bloom just in time to 
set it off, and together, perhaps, form the most 
beautiful summer pageant of the garden. The 
Madonna lily is one of the most gracious of its 
graceful tribe, being not only unusually hardy, 
but quick to increase, and thriving in almost any 
soil and position. Though its white print is 
seen everywhere, it is a flower that is never 
common. One of the easiest to grow, it is no 



2rtD0 ^artien JFaborftes. 173 

exception to the rest of the genus in its dis- 
like to being disturbed. The right way is to 
think twice before placing any plant or tree, so 
that, when once planted, it will not be necessary 
to interfere with it. Where transplanting is 
necessary, the lily should be moved when its 
bulb is at rest — a period easily determined by 
the dying down of the foliage and stalk. Many 
lilies require several years to become established, 
and, so long as they remain healthy and flower 
well, they should not be disturbed. What ap- 
plies to the daffodil does not hold good with the 
lily ; and I think the rule laid down by many, 
that the latter is benefited by transplanting and 
dividing every two or three years, is wrong. 
None of the varieties of the white lily can com- 
pare with the type ; the double form is as great 
a failure as the rose-colored lily of the valley. 

The past year the white lilies were not as fine 
as usual, something in the late spring, or else the 
previous dry autumn, affecting them. The stalks 
were less strong, and the leaves often turned yel- 
low before the appearance of the flowers. 

The lily should not have its stalk cut down 
after blossoming, until the leaves have fallen off, 
and the stalk becomes yellow and shriveled. It 
is always a temptation to cut down the withered 
stems, which are unsightly. But to remove the 



174 ®^5^ CKartJcn's ,Stori». 

green stems means to make the bulb go to rest 
prematurely, the result being that the next sea- 
son the flower-stems come up weaker and pro- 
duce smaller flowers. There is no objection to 
cutting the stems down gradually from the top 
as they become dry ; this does not weaken the 
bulbs, and at the same time avoids the appear- 
ance of untidiness. 

We would naturally expect much of the scar- 
let martagon or scarlet Turk's-cap (Z. chalcedo- 
nicicm), the true "lily of the field." Indeed, it is 
never disappointing, except when it is disturbed, 
the species being extremely sensitive to removal, 
and never being good for several years after 
transplanting. It is one of the grand things in 
red ; an old clump of it, in fiery scarlet flower, is 
a sight for a cardinal to dream of and a hum- 
ming-bird to admire. Its cultural requirements 
are as simple as those of the Madonna lily, and 
the beautiful cross between these two, the Nan- 
keen lily (Z. excelsum, L. testaceum, L. Isabelli- 
7iuni). No garden should be without this fine 
hybrid to accompany the white lily. It inherits 
the stateliness and the combined perfume of 
both parents, with a soft apricot or buff-salmon 
color unique among its family. 

An overestimated lily, I think, is the yellow 
L. Hansom. It is to the Japanese species what 



2rta)o OJartrcn JJ'aborites. 175 

the panther lily {L. pardelinum) is to the North 
American kinds — there are many finer to choose 
from. But both are easy to grow, and the grand 
whorls of Hansom certainly are not to be de- 
spised. Its small turban is of a distinct yellow, 
with a peculiar Oriental odor — you would know 
it came from Japan with your eyes shut. I 
should, doubtless, admire it more if I could grow 
it larger. I place it above pardeli7ium, which 
passes by quickly, and has a loose sort of flower 
on limp stalks that always require support ; 
Montgomery would never have grown the latter 
in his lily garden. The Calif ornian L. Wask- 
ingtoniamim is, I think, also overestimated — 
difficult to grow, and very fleeting. Z. Hum- 
boldtii, L. rubescens, and Z. Parryi are finer. 
All the Californian species, except pardelinimi, 
are more or less difficult to manage ; they often 
remain in the ground a long time before appear- 
ing. These do better in some portions of Eng- 
land, where they are consigned by the thousands, 
to be sold at auction. No little confusion has ex- 
isted concerning the Californian species. There 
are differences in plants which florists readily 
recognize, but botanists will not. Thus Z. ru- 
bescens, one of the handsomest of the species, 
was formerly classed with Z. Washmgtonia7iiun, 
a distinct species in almost every particular. 



176 2ri)e CKartJcn's Storw. 

Recently a yellow form of pardelinuni has been 
discovered, together with another species, which 
the discoverer, Mr. F. A. Miller, of San Francis- 
co, informs me he has designated as L. pardeli- 
mim Alpinum. This, he states, " grows on dry 
ground, and in general characteristics is not un- 
like L. parviim, which, however, only grows on 
very wet ground, or along water- courses. The 
flower is small, but vivid and rich in color ; near- 
ly half of the flower, which appears horizontally, 
is scarlet. I found it at an elevation of eleven 
thousand feet, higher than the altitude where 
any lilies grow usually." 

Where it can be well grown, L. speciosum, 
with its numerous varieties, is unquestionably 
one of the finest of the genus. The Massachu- 
setts climate, which produced the beautiful va- 
riety Melpomene, suits it ; but it is usually seen 
at its best under glass. L. Brownii, another 
Japanese species, is far more rare, but scarcely 
as handsome as the common L. longifiorum and 
its v^arieties. Contrary to general opinion, I have 
found the former extremely slow to recover after 
lifting. L. Ha7'risu, the Bermuda lily, is best 
suited to the greenhouse, on account of its tend- 
ency to start so early, and is not to be compared^ 
with the Japanese long-trumpeter for out-of-door 
culture. An easily-g^own lily is the European 



STtoo ^arTien JFaborites. 177 

Turk's-cap {L. martagon), and its fine varieties, 
album and dalmattcuvt ; the latter is said to re- 
vert to the type after a few years' cultivation. 
There are scores of varieties to choose from in 
the Japanese species Thunbergia7imn or elegans, 
nearly all of which are dwarf in habit, and vary 
in color from pale apricot, orange, and orange- 
red, to blood and deep red. These are among 
the easiest of the genus to grow, and do not like 
shade. L. bulbiferum, somewhat like Thiiiibcr- 
gianuin, with orange-crimson flowers, is also one 
of the least fastidious species ; the variety umbel- 
lahmt is a stronger grower than the type. Both 
of these are valuable early species where a mass 
of red in lilies is desired in open sun. 

Of the many species we owe to Japan, none 
can compare with the great golden-banded lily 
(L. auratum) and its varieties ; if, in reality, it is 
not the finest of its tribe. But it is a coquette at 
heart, and, unless wooed earnestly and persistent- 
ly, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred it will 
only smile bewitchingly the first year, to jilt you 
the next. Of the hundreds of thousands of 
bulbs imported annually from Japan by Europe 
and America, very few remain after the second 
and third year. This is not owing to its tender- 
ness, for it is among the hardiest of the genus. 
Neither is it a mere question of climate and cult- 



178 E\ft ^artien's .Storw. 

ure. Climate and culture have much to do with 
it, but the main reason of its failure is beyond 
this. Investigation has only recently brought to 
light the chief cause of its disappointment. In 
its own home it is infested by a mite, which, 
however, does not seem to cause trouble until it 
leaves its native country. The enfeeblement in- 
cident to the removal of the bulb, together with 
the difference of soil and climate, cause its de- 
terioration. Some unusually strong round bulbs, 
which may not be so much affected, if placed 
amid congenial surroundings, are able to resist 
this tendency ; and it is only by selecting a quan • 
tity of the best bulbs to start with, and retaining 
the most robust of these after the first year's 
flowering, that we may hope to establish this 
lily ; that is, unless it can be grown more suc- 
cessfully from scales or seed, a process seldom 
tried in this country, where we have not the 
patience to wait. Of fifty bulbs, perhaps only 
one third, more frequently a quarter or less, re- 
main after the second year, even when grown 
under the most advantageous circumstances. 
This is what the term " home-grown Lz'/z'um 
aurahmt " means, or is supposed to mean ; 
for the loss is always so great that few care 
to deal in auratum bulbs, except as directly 
imported. 



CiiMO CISarticn JFabon'tcs. 179 

Notwithstanding this, so desirable is the 
golden-banded lily, that it is worth any amount 
of trouble to establish. Peat, with the addition 
of sharp sand, seems to meet its cultural require- 
ments best, although it does well among Onoclea 
ferns, in soil largely composed of black " muck " 
or decayed wood. A sufficiency of water it 
must have, and abundance of shade is absolutely 
necessary to success. The midday sun is fatal to 
it. A flickering shade, I should say, is best for 
this and most lilies. It should also be placed 
where it will not be subject to high winds. The 
auraticm is one of the most protracted of the 
genus in its flowering period, and scarcely two 
of a number of bulbs planted at the same time 
come into flower simultaneously. There are 
numerous varieties of this species, all of which 
are beautiful ; the more pronounced the terra- 
cotta spots and vivid the color of the ray or cen- 
tral band, the finer the flower. 

I regard a well - grown Liliiim auratuin, 
Vvith a strong stalk rising to a height of five or 
six feet, supporting its dozen or more deliciously- 
scented blooms, as the grandest of all hardy 
flowers. It is worth planting a hundred bulbs 
to establish one such embodiment of floral 
beauty. When I stand in its lovely presence I 
am repaid for any trouble ; and I freely forgive 



i8o E\)t ^Jartien's Stors. 

the Japanese all the misery they have inflicted 
upon Kiota and Awata. It is scarcely astonish- 
ing that a country which can produce such a 
flower should produce artisans to whom nothing 
is impossible. It ought to inspire a transcend- 
ental literature. Under date of August 29, 
1885, F. Bridger, Penshurst Place, Kent, wrote 
to the London " Garden " : " We have in the 
open ground here a Lilium auratiwi with forty 
flowers upon it at the present time, and over a 
hundred more still to open ; the plant has six 
stems seven feet high." The proprietor should 
go down upon his knees to such a gardener, and 
endow him with an annuity for life ! 

Remarkable among lilies, and differing en- 
tirely from the type, is the Himalayan species, L. 
gigaiiteiwi, termed the "king of lilies." It is, I 
believe, generally considered tender with us, and 
difficult to manage. Two years ago I experi- 
mented with three of a dozen small bulbs, plant- 
ing them out on the 20th of November, in rich 
loam and leaf-mold. These wintered perfectly, 
and the remainder, which were placed in a cool 
house, have since withstood the winter equally 
well, and are now vigorous plants, with immense 
Caladium-\'k& leaves, growing in partial shade ; 
these have not yet flowered. This species, in 
Europe, attains a height of ten feet, and bears 



2riD0 €fart>en iFabovntes. i8i 

huge trumpet-shaped, nodding white flowers, in- 
teriorly stained with purple, and of powerful 
fragrance. It is a strong rooter, and, as it push- 
es up very early, it should be planted rather 
deeply, and protected with fine ashes from spring 
frosts. It is said to require years before it sends 
up its flower-stalk, and the longer it is in coming 
into flower the finer it is said to be. 

The tiger-lily (Z. izgrinum), an occupant of 
most gardens, is never common when well 
grown. Its odd Chinese color and pronounced 
spots must be seen in mass to do it justice ; the 
old - fashioned country garden invariably does 
well by it, because it is left undisturbed. L. 
tigrinum splendejis is termed the most beauti- 
ful, though the double variety is almost equally 
fine. All of the tigers are among the very easy 
lilies to grow. 

A single specimen of a beautiful native lily of 
the Canadense section was discovered in 1 840 by 
Dr. Asa Gray, on the Alleghanie's, North Caro- 
lina, and named in his honor L. Grayi. This 
is described as having flowers of dark-red orange, 
uniformly dotted within with rather small purple 
spots. Although since found in the same habi- 
tat, the species is as yet extremely rare. 

A lily distinctly American is the wild Turk's- 
cap {L. stiperbuTfi), an inhabitant of meadows 



1 82 2r|)e ^artien's Stori?. 

and low grounds, the tallest and most numerous 
flowered of our native lilies. So variable is this 
in its size, shape, color, markings, and the num- 
ber of its flowers, that it is difflcult to specify it 
distinctly. It is a question, moreover, just when 
it becomes concurrent with L. Canadense ru- 
brum, as would not unfrequently seem to be the 
case. The most common forms of the species 
bear dingy red or yellowish-red flowers, and vary 
greatly in the robustness of the plants. L. super- 
bum, as usually sent out, is anything but the 
superb lily it is in certain favored localities, and 
none who have only seen its more common forms 
have any conception of its stately beauty in its 
rarer and perfected state. Along the Old Colony 
Railway, between Newport and Boston, and on 
the Shore Line between New London and Boston, 
the species is seen at its best. For miles it fol- 
lows one along the railway, steeping whole 
meadows in scarlet, the color of the flowers 
varying from the most intense bright crimson 
to dingy yellowish-red. There in the salt air it 
revels even on dry, poor soil, bearing from three 
to fifteen or more commonly three to seven flow- 
ers on a head. 

In its cultivated state, where well grown, the 
large form is still more free flowering, the bulbs 
throwing up from a dozen to three dozen blooms 



JTtoo CRartJcn jj'aborftes. 183 

on stems eight to nine feet high. I have never 
seen it as brilliant under cultivation as it occurs 
wild in the localities referred to. Neither have I 
ever seen the lemon-yellow Canadense as vividly 
colored or as tall as it occurs near New London, 
Conn. Fine color and tall stalks with" L. super- 
bum under cultivation, however, will largely de- 
pend upon good selection made in the native 
habitat. This year a disease seems to have af- 
fected L. siiperbimt under cultivation in some 
places, causing the stems to shrivel and the 
leaves to rot off. 

Of the graceful Turk's-caps or turbans there 
are none, I think, unless I except the rare form 
of L. siiperbimi, equal to the red Canadense, our 
own wild wood-lily. I know of no lily more 
graceful or stately. It is as distinctly American 
as the cardinal- flower or the pink lady's-slipper. 
Something it possesses of the wildness, the sup- 
pleness, and the charm of cool leafy places — in 
its tall, polished wand, its fluttering whorls, and 
the pure whiteness of its rhizome. It always 
looks self-possessed, bending but never breaking 
before the rain and storm. Then its life and fire 
when rising from the foil of light-green Onocleas. 
I find it growing in low woods where water has 
lodged in spring, lifting its lithe stem along 
shaded ditches and hedges, and rising in flexile 



184 2rt)e CKartren's Storg. 

grace amid the chosen haunts of the sensitive 
fern. Owing to its increased vigor the red form 
of Canadeiise is preferable to the yellow, though 
the latter is exquisitely beautiful in the color and 
poise of its flower. Certainly the yellow form of 
L. Canadense far surpasses any yellow form of 
Z. stiperbmn, the latter invariably having a 
washy appearance. 

L. Canadense rubruni is much earlier to 
blossom than superbum. The distinction of 
shape of flower, however — superbum being quite 
recurved in the Turk's-cap style — is, perhaps, 
more obvious than any other characteristic. I 
find the red L. Canadense extremely protean, 
plants of similar size occurring side by side with 
long, rather narrow leaves, and again with short 
and very wide leaves ; the number of leaves on a 
whorl also being very variable, while in some 
plants the flowers are much more nodding than 
in others. In low, damp woods, near by where it 
is extremely abundant and attains a very large 
size, I have also noticed much variation in the 
shades and spots. The largest and most dis- 
tinctly marked flowers I have seen occurred in 
strong plants having what might be termed vari- 
egated foliage, the leaves in these instances be- 
ing yellowish in tone, marked with dark-green 
veins and blotches. Some have the back of the 



STtoo Sfartren iFabotftes. 185 

petals marked with pale-yellow bands on the 
edges. This is one of the most striking and ex- 
ceptional forms, though the numerous flowers 
are smaller. Some have flowers with the under 
side of the petals stained a deep vermilion ; some 
have large and some small dots ; others occur 
with flowers much larger than the type ; and 
the form I have specified as occurring with vari- 
egated foliage has the handsomest flowers of all, 
of medium size, with the back of the petals col- 
ored a glowing vermilion-scarlet. The large- 
flowered form has the petals the least spotted of 
all, no dots appearing on the terminal half of the 
petals. The latter is one of the most robust 
of the section. Another rare form occurs with 
the outside of the petals blotched and spotted 
with yellow, and I have met with still another 
form, intermediate between rubrum 2iX\A flavmn. 
All these, with the exception of the variegated 
form, I have found growing in the same woods 
in flickering shade, and all have preserved their 
distinguishing characteristics under cultivation. 
The yellow Canadense, while a less robust 
grower, withstands the sun better than the red 
variety. The latter is worthless grown in open 
sun. Placed among any of our native ferns ex- 
cept the big ostrich, which starts so early in 
growth as to choke or stunt the lilies, they 
14 



1 86 Etit ^artnen's Storjj, 

thrive luxuriantly, and are thus probably seen to 
the best advantage. 

Mr. Peter Henderson has justly remarked 
that the lily has no poor relations, and that in a 
general collection of the species all that can be 
imagined desirable and pferfect in floral forms 
will be realized. Indeed, it is beautiful in all its 
very numerous forms ; and when we consider that 
except one or two species it is a flower with no in- 
sect pests, the lily may well be regarded as one of 
the greatest treasures of the hardy flower-garden. 

The roses seem more beautiful than ever 
this year, a characteristic of this favorite flower j 
it is always more beautiful. Said a blush rose 
to me : I am the type of youth and voluptuous- 
ness ; I am red with the flush of health ; with 
my odor, with my loveliness, all are intoxicated ; 
I nestle m the bosom of beauty and I am the 
symbol of love ; my beauty speaks for me. Do I 
need to trace my lineage ? " I came of nectar 
spilled from heaven. Love, who bore the celes- 
tial vintage, tripped a wing and overset the vase ; 
and the nectar, spilling on the valleys of the earth, 
bubbled up in roses." 

There is so much to say about the rose that 
it were more satisfactory to recommend the 
reader to peruse the hundreds of monographs it 
has inspired than to attempt to allude to it within 



2rU)o ©atticn i^aborftcs. 187 

the confines of a few pages. The only way to 
do it justice is to begin at the beginning and 
treat it in all its phases of origin, history, culture, 
form, color, and fragrance. I imagine it would 
be delightful to study roses for a decade and 
then write a book. Even the subject of suitable 
manures would lose its taint if considered with 
reference to the rose. The species alone number 
upward of a hundred ; the varieties with their 
briefest possible descriptions would fill a ponder- 
ous folio. Of teas alone there are several thou- 
sands ; of hybrid perpetuals or remontants there 
is almost as great a multitude as the daffodils 
Wordsworth saw dancing by the shore of Ulls- 
water. An astronomer it would require to 
count them ; a Symonds to depict their colors. 
The rose, like the lily, will not grow itself, not- 
withstanding its hardy species are far less fas- 
tidious with regard to soil and climate. As the 
price of its beauty it requires care, if not " eter- 
nal vigilance." It is like a fascinating woman 
whom every one admires and who graciously sub- 
mits to the attentions of all, to her own annoy- 
ance and discomfort. Thus, Madame de Coigny, 
becoming tired of the attentions bestowed upon 
her, one day had a signet engraved of a rose 
besieged by insects, with the motto ~ 
This it is to be a Rose. 



1 88 3rSe ^artien's Stov». 

The first leaves have scarcely appeared ere 
they are beset by the thrip or rose-hopper, al- 
most immediately succeeded by the green fly, 
leaf-roller, rose-chafer, and rose-slug. Were 
the sparrow of any earthly use, he would not 
leave these to hellebore, whale-oil soap, and 
Paris green. Nearly any one of these pests, if 
left to itself, soon ruins the foliage or flow- 
ers. Undoubtedly the easiest way to cultivate 
roses is to buy them ; the next easiest way is to 
have a posse of gardeners whose sole purpose 
shall be to stand over them continually with 
wisp, bellows, and syringe. Indeed, it is far 
easier to study the lily and cajole its caprices 
than to escape the omnipresent thorn of the rose. 
There are roses without thorns as there is a bee 
without a sting ; but a thornless rose nearly al- 
ways means a rose without fragrance. But 
what loveliness it gives us to make up for its 
poutings — a dimple and a smile on every flower ! 

Who shall decide which rose is the type of 
beauty or say which is the sweetest ? Can there 
be anything more beautiful than a Marechal 
Niel ? Is any rose finer than the combination of 
buff and peach-blow and salmon in the fragrant 
folds of a Gloire de Dijon } Is Louis Van Houtte 
or Marie Rady the sweeter flower, and are either 
of these as sweet as La France or Souvenir de la 



?rb)o €Jartien iFaborites. 189 

Malmaison ? And are these in turn as delicious 
as the little violet-scented white Banksza or the 
pungent breath of the white- clustered multiflora? 
Who shall choose between Marshall P. Wilder, 
Marie Beaumann, and Alfred Colomb? And 
which is the more bewitching, Madame Gabriel 
Luizet in her dress of pink Chambray, or Mabel 
Morrison in her cool white lawn? Which do 
you prefer, the old-fashioned climbers smothered 
in rosy bloom, or the mass of the Persian's 
beaten gold ? Can you decide between a pink 
Bon Silene and a moss-rose wet with dew ? 
Would you leave out the paeonia-flowered Paul 
Neyron for Madame the Countess of Serenye? 
And which is the more desirable in autumn, the 
colored hips of the dog-rose or the late-blossom- 
ing Marguerite de St. Amande ? Then the 
white Rosa rugosa, the sweet-brier, the little 
Pacquerettes, the Noisettes, the Ayrshires, the 
Bourbons, the Chinas, the Boursaults, the dam- 
asks, the Provence, the Scotch, and the hosts of 
hybrids. 

Which is my favorite in the hardy rose-gar- 
den ? I have tried for many years to decide, 
and if pressed hard for an answer I think I 
should name Marie Rady, although not a few of 
the varieties I have specified and some I have 
not mentioned approach it very closely in the 



190 Ef)t ^cirTJcn's Storjj. 

attributes which go to form a perfect rose. It 
is an ideal rose in form, color, fragrance, and 
foliage when well grown, perhaps not quite as 
free blooming as one might wish, and possibly 
more satisfactory as a budded plant than when 
grown on its own roots. I know of no rose 
more rose-like in its large, full, vermilion-crimson 
flower, its full, delicious perfume, its red-thorned 
shoots, and free, lustrous foliage. 

But some like the brunettes and some the 
blondes. Both are beautiful, unless it be the 
type which loses its color with the first hot sun. 
Of course, there are many species which are not 
sufficiently hardy for the garden ; but there still 
remain enough to puzzle any one to choose from. 
Some one has said that roses in a garden are 
preferable to a garden of roses, the latter at times 
affording little poetry or pleasure compared with 
a few roses here and there in a garden. An ad- 
mirable plan, I think, is to plant enough of good 
forms and colors in the flower-borders ; of Per- 
sians in the shrubberies ; of climbers on the walls 
and pillars and trellises, and of all desirable 
hardy kinds in the kitchen-garden to cut from ; 
and ever, and still ever, when wet with morning 

dew — 

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, 
Young June is still a-flying. 




toarm-tocatljcr toisbom. 



Gods grant or withhold it, your ''yea" and your "nay' 
Are immutable, heedless of outcry of ours : 

But life z's worth living, and here we would stay 
For a house full of books, and a garden of flowers. 

Andrew Lang — Ballade of True Wisdom. 






VIII. 
WARM-WEATHER WISDOM. 

HE intense heat and long-continued dry 
weather are telling upon the flowers, 
and, at present, watering is the most 
important of garden tasks. Vainly have the 
hair-bird and tree-toad portended rain. It is 
one of the dry spells when all weather signs fail. 
The garden-hose, however persistently applied, 
only partially supplies the deficiency. The only 
thing that sounds cool is the plaint of the mourn- 
ing-dove from the depths of the thicket and the 
humming of bees in the lime. Even the swal- 
lows seem to fly less swiftly and the butterflies 
pass by less buoyantly. It is the sort of weather 
to reread the " Castle of Indolence " or the " Mid- 
summer-Night's Dream." Some one should 
make out a list of books for reading during the 
reign of the dog-star. I should recommend, be- 
sides numerous volumes I have previously al- 



194 2[t)e CKarocn's Stotj). 

luded to, such books as these as a sort of mental 
julep to sip when the thermometer is in the 
nineties : " The Unknown River," " The Life of 
the Fields," " I go a-Fishing," *' Rambles among 
the Hills," " A Year aniong the Trees," " Wal- 
den," " Wind-Voices," " A History of Cham- 
pagne." There is no end of cooling literary 
beverages, volumes that one can take up and 
skim through, Bulvver to the contrary notwith- 
standing, that reading without purpose is saun- 
tering, not exercise — a winter rather than a sum- 
mer maxim. 

" The Haunted House " is cooling, and " In 
Memoriam " is nice to dive in. A fresh breeze 
blows perpetually from the " Penseroso " ; " The 
Faerie Queen " is cool reading, and so is " The 
Plea of the Midsummer Fairies." All the noted 
sonnets on sleep are cool. Dobson or Lang 
ought to collect them in book-form between 
snow-white covers for hot- weather use. I re- 
member a " Phantom Ship " (not Hamilton's 
sonnet) which used to provoke a cold shudder; 
but it is so long since, I have forgotten the au- 
thorship. There is also a " Phantom Fisher " 
somewhere in British verse — a spectral angler 
who draws ghostly trout from haunted shal- 
lows ; and Whittler, besides the " Dead Ship 
of Harps well " — " the ghost of what was once a 



Wnvnx-W^tntfftv WistKim. 195 

ship " — has a phantom " Farm-House," wraith 
of a dead home. But, cooler than all of these, 
or any chill-provoking verse 1 recollect, is Til- 
ton's "Phantom Ox," a rendition of the old 
Swabian superstition that a specter in the form 
of a white ox glides through the ^^■llages and 
farms, and that any person on whom he breathes 
at once sickens and dies. A little child, fright- 
ened in from his play, tells his mother, with 
blanched cheek and trembling lip, how, while 
wading along the brook in quest of lilies, a 
ghostly ox came down to drink. Through his 
body the trees, meadow-grass, and stones showed 
as through a crystal glass : 

He wandered round, and wherever he went 

He stepped with so light a tread, 
No harebell under his hoof was bent, 

No violet bowed its head. 

He cast no shadow upon the ground, 

No image upon the stream ; 
His lowing was fainter than any sound 

That ever was heard in a dream. 

" I quivered and quaked in every limb ! 
I knew not whither to flee ; 
The further away I shrank from him, 
The nearer he came to me. 

" My handful of lilies he sniffed and smelt :; 
His breath was chilly and fresh ; 



196 Ett ffiarticn's Stoti?. 

His horns, as they touched me softly, felt 
Like icicles to my flesh. 



" I rushed through the water across the brook, 
And high on the shelving shore 
I stopped and ventured to turn and look, 
In hope to see him no more. 

" He walked in my wake on the top of the flood, 
And followed me up the bank ! 
A blast from his nostrils froze my blood ! 
My spirit within me sank 1 

" I hid in the reeds, O mother dear, 
But swift as a whiff of air 
He followed me there ! he followed me here ! — 
He follows me everywhere ! 

" Oh, frown at him, frighten him, drive him away ! 
He's coming in at the door ! " 
And down fell the lad in a swoon, and lay 
At his mother's feet on the floor. 

The mother looked round her, dazed and dumb, 

She saw but the empty air, 
Yet knew if the Phantom Ox had come. 

The shadow of Death was there. 

She caught the pallid boy to her breast. 

And pillowed him on his bed ; 
The white-eyed moon kept watch in the west ; 

The beautiful child lay dead ! * 

* Theodore Tilton, " Swabian Stories." 



3!^arm=5!5^eatt)cr 512^isTiom. 197 



This is as powerful as the " Erlking," and it 
deserves a place as a companion-piece to Schu- 
bert's grand rendition of the German lyric. 

Doctors in summer should prescribe a light 
literary course, tonic rather than stimulating, 
not only to the weak-kneed, but the robust as 
well — on the same principle that salads, cooling 
vegetables, and dainty entrees are craved by the 
stomach during the tyranny of Sirius. I would fur- 
ther proscribe heating music : Strauss's waltzes. 
Von Weber's " Invitation to the Dance," Men- 
delssohn's " Wedding March," even Beetho- 
ven's " Adelaide," are entirely out of place during 
the heated term. Rather let us listen to the 
solemn chords of the " Dead March in Saul," 
the " Lacrymosa " of the "Requiem," the sob- 
bing of the " Serenade." 

The worst of existing hot-weather customs is 
that of sending bills in July. A law should be 
passed rendering this an indictable offense, if, 
withal, creditors should not be compelled to de- 
duct a liberal percentage from all accounts fall- 
ing due during the summer solstice. 

Planchet's motto, " Laissons faire et ne dzsoiis 
rien,'' is a good one for summer, and preferable 
to D'Artagnan's, '' Faisons bien et laissons dire." 
Happy in July is the man on the sea-shore ! 
How refreshing it is to get it all wet on one side 



198 E\)t CKarlJen's Storrj. 

of you, to have the ocean-breeze spraying you 
all the way in from the horizon, and to know the 
privilege of bathing with your lobster before 
eating him ! 

Under the lime-tree's shadow I find the cool- 
est place of the garden. Is it due altogether to 
the shade, or partially to the myriad insect wings 
hovering unceasingly over the blooms above me ? 
The ferns in the fernery near by look cool. 
Does a fern ever look otherwise than cool, and is 
not green always the coolest of colors ? Cool 
are the lilac-scented white stars of the partridge- 
vine, almost covering its deep - green leaves. 
Cool, too, are the aspens on the hill-side which 
the wind visits v/hen he passes by all other trees. 
And are not the tall, wild lilies cooled by their 
fluttering whorls ? Despite their warm color, 
somehow their red Turk's - caps do not look 
warm, whereas the brick-red of the meadow- 
lily and the live coals of the scarlet martagon do 
in comparison. The wild lilies are now mostly 
in full vermilion bud and flower, some of them 
rising six feet high amid the ferns. The sight 
of their great candelabras of from six to a dozen 
flowers more than atones for the sting of the 
nettles and the labor of extracting their brittle 
rhizomes from the network of roots amid which 
they were entangled. 



W!^nxnuW&tnt\)tx SJ^fstrom. 199 



I thought the bouquet of the wild grape the 
most delicious breath of June ; but now beneath 
the lime-tree's shade, lulled by the drowsy mur- 
mur of the bees, there seems no summer odor 
quite so fresh and uncloying as that of the blos- 
soming lime. No wonder the honey probed 
from its scented cymes in the Lithuanian forests 
rivals that of Mount Hymettus thyme and is 
considered "the finest in the world." 

The lime, a summer home of murmurous wings, 

sings Tennyson. It is a very Mecca for the 
bees, and rivals its near neighbor, the Japanese 
honeysuckle, in the numbers of insects it at- 
tracts. What a motley throng of pilgrims are 
drawn to its nectar-laden shrine I Can it be the 
sweetness of its sap, which yields a sirup simi- 
lar to the sugar-maple, that the ants and borers 
seek beneath its rind, eventually splitting the 
bark and destroying the tree ? I believe this is 
peculiar to the European lime when grown in 
this country. De Gelien observes : " Many are 
fond of bees ; I never knew any one who loved 
them indifferently — on se passionne pour elles ! " 
The ancients were good bee-masters, in proof of 
which it may be cited that the Greeks had three 
terms at least for the different qualities of propo- 
lis or bee-gum — TrpoiroXis, KojifKocris, and macro- 



200 2ri)e Cffartrcn's Storg. 

KTjpos. The mead or metheglin of Shakespeare, 
the drink of the ancient Britons and Norsemen, 
and a favorite of Queen Bess, is very plausible, 
if not true, from the Greek, fxeOv alyXrjfv. Who- 
ever is interested in bees will have read the 
fourth Georgia, and pondered the rules laid 
down by Butler. A better bear and bee story 
than that contained in " Reynard the Fox " is 
related by Butler, the raconteur being Deme- 
trius, a Muscovite ambassador sent to Rome: 

" A neighbor of mine," said he, " searching 
in the woods for honey, slipped down into a 
great hollow tree, and there sunk into a lake of 
honey up to the breast, where, when he had 
stuck fast two days, calling and crying out in 
vain for help (because nobody in the mean while 
came nigh that solitary place)— at length, when 
he was out of all hope of life, he was strangely 
delivered by means of a great bear, which, com- 
ing thither about the same business that he did, 
and smelling the honey (stirred with his striving), 
clambered up to the top of the tree, and thence 
began to let himself down backward into it. 
The man, bethinking himself, and knowing that 
the worst was but death (which in that place he 
was sure of), beclipt the bear fast with both his 
hands about the loins, and withal made an out- 
cry as loud as he could. The bear, being thus 



suddenly affrighted (what with the handling and 
what with the noise), made up again with all 
speed possible ; the man held and the bear 
pulled, until with main force he had drawn Dun 
out of the mire ; and then, being let go, away 
he trots, more afeared than hurt, leaving the 
smeared swain in a joyful fear." 

Scarcely less amusing is Butler's account of 
honey as a medicine, or his directions to avoid 
being stung by bees. They are as quaint as 
some of Walton's passages, or the directions by 
other old masters of the line for capturing a 
wary tenant of the stream. Walton has con- 
tributed one of the best mots that has appeared, 
on the frog : the instruction he gives Venator 
for baiting a hook with a live batrachian, which 
he commands him to use " as if he loved him, 
that he may live the longer." This is almost as 
realistic as another injunction by a Michael An- 
gelo of the piscatory art, mentioned by Jesse, 
who would have a frog attached " to a goose's 
foot, in order to see, good halynge, whether the 
goose or the pyke shall have the better." Still 
another master of the antique school, speaking 
of the best bait for a pike, exclaims, with an en- 
thusiasm for his art not to be met with in these 
degenerate days : " But the yellow frog, of all 
frogs, brings him to hand, for that's his dainty 
15 



202 2rf)c ©Jartien's Storw. 

and select diet, wherein Nature has placed such 
magical charms that all his powers can never 
resist them, if fastened on the hook with that 
exactness, that his life may shifie, and the bait 
seem undeprived of natural motion." When 
Theocritus sang, " Sweet is the life of frogs," he 
little thought of the pike, and the use the classic 
Rana would be put to bythe modern angler. 1 
think these old angling authors should be read 
during a midsummer drought — their stories are 
so cool, and ripple from their quills so sponta- 
neously. 

In connection with bees and insects, Jesse 
himself provokes a smile when he declares that, 
together with wasps and bumble-bees, the hor- 
net "may be perfectly managed. . . . Two or 
three whiffs of tobacco-smoke, used as a fumi- 
gator, with a rose-nozzle — a very small one, that 
can be held between the teeth, is large enough — 
will instantly tranquillize all such insects, and 
render them quite harmless as to their sting ; 
making them appear as if they had forgotten 
they possessed such formidable weapons. . . . 
The sting of a wasp is the least painful of 
all," he paradoxically continues ; " the sting of 
a hornet I have never felt, nor that of the 
largest bumble-bee." But Jesse is not often 
caught napping, despite this paradox and his 



SS^arm^Sffi^cnttjcr ®®fstiom. 203 

itinerant fumigator. It is, nevertheless, to be 
regretted that he thus dehberately denied himself 
the pleasure of a sensation which every one 
ought to experience at least once in a lifetime. 

I consider Dr. Talmage a better authority 
than Jesse — he has felt the hornet's sting, I did 
not know him as an entomologist until he 
preached his sermon on " Stinging Annoyances," 
from the text, Deuteronomy vii, 20, " The Lord 
thy God will send the hornet." How vividly he 
describes him ! " It is a species of wasp, swift 
in its motion and violent in its sting. Its touch 
is torture to man and beast. We have all seen 
the cattle run bellowing from the touch of its 
lancet. In boyhood we used to stand cautiously 
looking at the circular nest hung from the tree- 
branch, and, while we were looking at the won- 
derful pasteboard covering, we were struck with 
something that sent us shrieking away ! " 

The hornet is used as a simile for the stinging 
vexations of life which beset mankind in a thou- 
sand forms. If Talmage had a garden, he would 
see a swarm of hornets in the rose-pests, the 
dry weather, the overplus of rain, the plant- 
staking, the weeds, his dandelioned neighbors, 
the east wind, before which all plants must bow 
and many break. Indeed, he refers to the hor- 
net as visiting us in the shape of friends and ac- 



204 ^5^ CKartien's Stor». 

quaintances who are always saying disagreeable 
things, and selects him as the type of the insect- 
ile annoyances of the world — these foes, too 
small to shoot, that are ever puncturing us one 
way or another. The Colorado beetle, the cur- 
culio, the locust, the Western grasshopper, the 
slug, the aphides, the currant-worm, the cod- 
ling-moth, are all hornets in disguise. Perhaps 
the parson's solution, that the hornet is sent to 
" culture our patience," is the most rational one 
yet assigned for his existence. And yet the 
hornet is useful in another way, in feeding his 
young with the soft parts of other insects, in- 
cluding mosquitoes, which are thus largely de- 
stroyed. 

The honey-bee is the most frequent among 
the insect visitors to the blossoms overhead, 
though the gnats and flies are also numerously 
present, banqueting on the sweets. I see vari- 
ous bumble-bees, wasps, and hornets as well, 
the former being the most numerous, after the 
honey-bees. From all of these many wings 
there arises a soothing, sonorous murmur of 
industry, a humming as from a vast hive. It is 
one of the sweetest of Nature's voices ; less 
ethereal but not unlike the aerial music which 
one sometimes pauses to hear near woods and 
streams at this season. After Beethoven re- 



ffl2^arm*®5^cati)cr 3!5^fstiom. 205 

turned from wandering about a wood near Vien- 
na, where he listened long to this aerial melody, 
he composed the grand Pastoral Symphony. 
This same sound puzzled the Selborne rector, 
in the Money-dells, over a century ago. Did 
this not also suggest the sound — 

That sometimes murmur'd overhead, 
And sometimes underground, 

of Hood's " Elm-Tree " — Hood's lines being de- 
scriptive of the characteristic rising and falling 
of this woodland voice ? 

I remember hearing it repeatedly, years since, 
on still, hot days, in a small copse on a high ele- 
vation ; and on revisiting the locality, recently, 
the same mysterious music followed me through 
the wood. Who are the performers of this gos- 
samer-spun sound, this invisible harpsichord, 
this elfin music of the air ? I have not seen a 
cause ascribed to it by the naturalists, though, it 
would seem, it must proceed from the trembling 
wings of myriads of midges, engaged in the 
dance of rivalry and love. Swinton's exhaustive 
volume on " Insect Variety," which treats so 
fully of the noises and dances of insects, throws 
no new light on the subject. Insects, and the 
swallows who pursue them, soar higher as the 
temperature becomes hotter ; and it is, therefore, 



2o6 Srtje CSarticn's Storjj. 

not improbable that the music produced by the 
fanning of innumerable wings should be distin- 
guished when the performers are invisible. 

I see a humming-bird visiting the wild lilies — 
he can not resist his favorite color — red. In a 
moment he darts to the lime-tree, but only for a 
moment, when he is rifling the blooms of the 
Japanese honeysuckle, where he remains sus- 
pended for a long period, often joined by the 
female. The boom of his swiftly-vibrating wings 
is audible where I sit ; it seems as if they cooled 
the air ! In the garden he skims rapidly over 
the borders, pausing a minute over the blue 
larkspurs, invariably visiting the scarlet lychnis 
and Chalcedonicum lilies ; never neglecting the 
red monardas, and always returning to the 
honeysuckles. In Prof. Grant Allen's " Pleased 
with a Feather " I learn that the metallic luster 
of his topaz, emerald, and ruby-tinted throat is 
due to the fine lines of the feather barbules; 
and these it also is which give the sable sheen 
to the crow, whom I admire treading his favor- 
ite corn-field. 




ittg Snacct bisitors. 



EiN Bluraenglockchen 

Vom Boden hervor 
War friih gesprosset 

In lieblichem Flor ; 
Da kam ein Bienchen 

Und naschte fein : 
Die miissen wohl beide 

Fiir einander sein. 

GoTHE, Gleich und Gleich. 





IX. 



MY INSECT VISITORS. 




S I listen to the humming of the bum- 
ble-bees, I think the term " bombina- 
tion," formerly applied to the droning 
of the large Bombus, should be retained. It is 
expressive, and carries the sound shed by him of 
the black - velvet coat and winnowing wings. 
Sir John Lubbock's experiments with regard to 
the color-sense of bees are interesting as de- 
tailed in Chapter X in the volume " Ants, Bees, 
and Wasps." Repeated experiments made with 
honey placed on papers of different colors not 
only indicated a liking for blue on the part of 
bees, but showed a very decided preference for 
this over all other colors. Since the researches 
of Lubbock, Darwin, Wallace, and Miiller, it is 
now well known that special colors in flowers 
are definitely designed to attract certain special 
kinds of insects; as, for instance, flowers that 



2IO 2rt)e ©JartJcn's Stori>. 

are intended for fertilization by various small 
flies are generally white, those which are de- 
signed to attract beetles are usually yellow, and 
those which depend upon bees and butterflies 
are almost always red, lilac, purple, or blue. 
Blue flowers. Prof. Allen observes, are, as a rule, 
specialized for fertilization by bees, and bees 
therefore prefer this color, while conversely the 
flowers have at the same time become blue be- 
cause that was the color which the bees prefer. 
As in most other cases, the adaptation must have 
gone on pari passu on both sides. As the bee- 
flowers grew bluer, the bees must have grown 
fonder and fonder of blue ; and as they grew 
fonder of blue, they must have more and more 
constantly preferred the bluest flowers.* 

A singular preference of the large bumble- 
bee {Xylocarpa Virginicd) has come under my 
notice in the case of the big bee-larkspur {Del- 
phiniuju W heeler ii'). One of the most robust 
and large-spiked varieties, 'I should not recom- 
mend it for the flower-border, both its small 
flower and peculiar color being less pleasing 
than numerous other varieties. It is growing 
side by side with handsomer and equally con- 
spicuous kinds, and I should have discarded it 

* Cornhill Magazine, " The Colors of Plowers." 



IWj Kn»ect VmtoxB. 211 

long since were it not for the fascination it has 
always offered to the bumble-bees. The color 
of the sepals is a peculiar sky-blue, rayed with 
pale violet ; the two spur-petals that project 
above the two yellow-bearded petals being dark 
brown and showing almost black against the 
contrasting color. Between these the bee or- 
dinarily plunges his proboscis into the nectary ; 
but the large black bumble-bee I refer to rarely 
if ever does this, but drives his spear into the 
spur of the flower from the outside, close to the 
base of the spur where the honey is stored. 
Perhaps this is done to save time and labor, or 
it may be owing to his short proboscis. He 
performs his work rapidly and assiduously, often 
remaining until stupefied from his banquet. 
This species has a habit of hovering over the 
fiowers or in mid-air with a loud bombination, 
while chasing his mate, and seems more alert 
and quickly alarmed than others. When D. 
Wheelerii is in blossom little attention is paid 
to any other larkspur or any other flov^^er of 
the garden, though numerous varieties of the 
bee-larkspur are far more odoriferous. The 
dark centers of the flowers are, of course, a 
conspicuous guide to the nectary ; but similar 
centers exist in many other varieties. 

So marked is the preference shown by this 



212 E\)t ^Jartien's Storg. 

species of bee for the variety specified, that on 
placing a large bunch composed of four other 
varieties of the bee-larkspur side by side with 
Wheelerii and experimenting with nearly a 
dozen different bees, in every case the insects 
when intercepted by the foreign flowers merely 
alighted on them for an instant, and, without in- 
serting their proboscides, at once deserted them 
for the variety they were frequenting. I have 
been unable to determine whether it is the pe- 
culiar shade or some special odor of the flower 
which causes it to be sought out above the 
others, or whether it is on account of its being 
richer in honey. Besides this species I find 
other principal visitors in Bombus terrestris and 
the smaller bumble-bee, though none nearly as 
numerous as the large black species. B. ter- 
restris also usually obtains his sweets from the 
outside of the nectary ; but the smaller bumble- 
bee generally draws his nectar in the legitimate 
way. An occasional honey-bee searches for 
sweets through the aperture which has been 
made for him by a stronger lancet than his own. 
With regard to the perforation of the corolla 
by bees, Darwin states that those plants, the 
fertilization of which actually depends on insects 
entering the flowers, will fail to produce seed 
when their nectar is stolen from the outside ; 



iWw J^nscct ITisftors. 213 

and even with those species which are capable 
of fertilizing themselves without any aid there 
can be no cross-fertilization, and this, as we 
know, is a serious evil in most cases.* Aristotle 
noticed that all kinds of bees and certain other 
insects usually visit the flowers of the same spe- 
cies as long as they can before going to another 
species, and it is a well-established fact, readily 
observable in any flower-garden, that bumble- 
and hive-bees will visit plants of the same species 
of opposite colors ; but I am puzzled to account 
for the marked preference in the instance cited. 
The plants referred to are situated in a long row, 
and are considerably more numerous than any 
other variety. Yet this fact would hardly ac- 
count for the preference I have noticed, for sev- 
eral seasons. 

I think we do not accord- the Germans suffi- 
cient credit for what they have accomplished by 
their painstaking and invaluable investigations in 
the interest of plant knowledge. The ear-split- 
ting terms they have to make use of and con- 
tend with ! Just think of having to know that 
the " Sauerstoffabscheidung " of green plants is 
an " Ernahrungsvorgang," and that the latter is 
closely connected with the " Lichtvermittelter 

* Self- and Cross-Fertilization, chapter xi. 



214 5riDe ^articn's Storj?. 

Desoxydationsprocess " ! Is it any wonder it 
requires a " scholar of Trinity College, Cam- 
bridge," to translate a German scientist ? 

The first stimulus to more exact observation 
and distinction of plants was necessity — to know 
the countless medicinal species and to avoid con- 
founding them with others. The old herb- 
gatherers were the first botanists. But since 
Aristotle, Theophrastus, and Dioscorides, who 
were herbalists rather than botanists, how much 
is the present system and knowledge of this sci- 
ence indebted to the Germans ! What flowers 
have not been analyzed through their busy mag- 
nifying - glass — beginning with Brunfels and 
Fuchs ; continued by Erhart, Hoffmann, Kom- 
pler, Rumph, Hermann, Schreber, Sprengel, 
Gothe, Humboldt ; and followed by Meisner, 
Endlicher, Meyen, Link, Schleiden, Von Mohl, 
Seubert, Miiller, and others ! 

To all who would look beneath the surface 
and grasp the real purport and significance of 
flowers, Hermann Miiller's volume, " The Fertili- 
zation of Flowers," recently translated into Eng- 
lish, will be found of signal interest. Christian 
Sprengel, in 1787, was the pioneer to discover 
these fundamental truths : 

I. The nectar of most flowers is secreted 
for the sake of insects, and is protected from 



ifttjj finsect Visitors. 215 

rain, that the insects may get it pure and un- 
defiled. 

2. The colors and odors of flowers are de- 
signed to attract the attention of insects. 

3. Without the aid of insects very many 
flowers are incapable of fertilization, and there- 
fore the secretion of honey in the flower, its pro- 
tection, the odor of the flower, and the coloring 
of the corolla, are Nature's contrivances to cause 
its fertilization by insects. 

While bringing forward the fact, however, 
that the pollen was conveyed by insects to the 
stigma, no greater advantage was assigned by 
Sprengel than direct contact of the reproductive 
organs — in itself no advantage over natural fer- 
tilization — without suspecting that the real value 
of insect-visits to the plant consisted in the pol- 
len being thus carried to the stigmas of o^/ier 
flowers, and by this means accomplishing cross- 
fertilizatioji. So, Sprengel's work, " The Se- 
cret of Nature in the Form and Fertilization of 
Flowers discovered," was allowed to lie fallow 
until called up again by the advance of knowl- 
edge and the researches of modern scientists, 
more particularly by Darwin's great work, " The 
Origin of Species," and his later book, "The Fer- 
tilization of Orchids." Miiller's work, published 
much later than those of Darwin, besides the 



2i6 5ri)e CKartJcn's Stotg. 

author's own marvelous researches and observa- 
tions, includes references to everything of im- 
portance which had been written upon the sub- 
ject prior to its publication. Of the mass of 
information here presented, the enumeration of 
the various flower species, with their throngs of 
visitors, is one of the most noteworthy features. 

It will prove interesting, perhaps, to recapitu- 
late briefly the forms and character of insectiv- 
orous life which serve to carry on the process 
of cross-fertilization. " A review of the mode 
of life of insects which visit flowers, and of 
the families to which they belong," says Prof. 
Miiller, " shows continuous gradations from 
those which never visit flowers to those which 
seek them as a secondary matter, and finally to 
those which entirely depend upon them. This 
shows clearly that insects which originally did 
not avail themselves of flowers gradually became 
more and more habituated to a floral diet, and 
only became correspondingly modified in struct- 
ure when they had learned to depend upon such 
a diet exclusively." 

In the scale of importance as fertilizers, the 
order of Hymefioptera, to which belong the 
bees, takes the highest rank, its members in the 
perfect state being entirely dependent on flow- 
ers. Bees, which confine themselves exclusively 



I^n JJnsect Ufsitors. 217 

to a floral diet, have led to more adaptive modi- 
fications in these flowers than the Orthoptera 
and Neuroptera, the Heiniptera, the Coleoptera, 
and the Diptera and Tkysanoptera combined. 
To them we owe the most varied, most numer- 
ous, and most specialized forms, the flowers 
adapted to the Apidce probably surpassing all 
others together in color-variety. 

The Heiniptera, to which belong the bugs, 
stand higher than the Orthoptera and Neurop- 
tera, to which belong the cockroaches and 
dragon-flies, several species being fitted by their 
small size to creep into and suck honey from 
very various flowers. The Coleoptera, to which 
belong the beetles, are of much greater impor- 
tance as fertilizers, for many species in widely 
different families feed at times on flowers, and a 
still greater number confine themselves to such 
food exclusively. On the other hand, the vora- 
cious beetle does much harm to numerous flow- 
ers by nibbling their reproductive organs. 

The Diptera, to which belong the flies and 
gnats, stand on a still higher plane than the 
Coleoptera in the matter of adaptation to a 
floral diet, and are of far more importance for 
fertilization, the majority of Diptera resorting to 
flowers. In the habits of the EmpidcE of the 
general order Diptera, Miiller clearly sees the 
10 



2i8 JTfje CKarticn's Storj). 

transition from blood-sucking to honey-sucking. 
Sometimes in a single species the females, which 
require more nourishment, are blood-suckers, 
while the males seek honey only. In Paltosto- 
ma torrentium {Blepharoceridce), two different 
kinds of females exist together, one blood-suck- 
ing, the other honey-sucking ; while the males 
are all alike, and all feed on honey. In like 
manner, Miiller states that several flowers seem 
to have acquired an offensive smell correlative 
to the habits of certain anthophilous flies which 
at times feed on putrid flesh and excrement as 
well as flowers. Tiny species of midges, which 
people dark corners by day and leave them in 
the evening, are regular fertilizers of many flow- 
ers which afford somber hiding-places for their 
visitors. 

In almost all bees highly specialized for fer- 
tilization, the body is more or less thickly clothed 
with long, feathery hairs, that in many flowers 
become dusted, without any direct effort, with a 
considerable quantity of pollen, which is then 
cleared off by means of the tarsal brushes. 
Easily as the hairs take up pollen, they return it 
with equal ease to viscid or rough stigmas. 

So greatly has the hirsute covering of the 
hind-legs increased, and so perfect has become 
the development of tarsal brushes in the exceed- 



ifttw Knscct Uisitors. 219 

ingly numerous species of Halictus and Andre- 
na, that the practice of feeding the young on 
pollen collected by these hairs is exclusively or 
mainly relied upon. In all species which pro- 
vide for their own young, the males are of far 
less service for fertilizing plants than the females, 
as they are merely interested in their own main- 
tenance, and neither collect pollen nor visit flow- 
ers very diligently. Yet, in all species in which 
a more or less thick coat of feathery hairs has 
become developed upon the bodies of the fe- 
males, it has become transmitted by inheritance 
to the males, so that they also serve as pollen- 
collectors. 

Think of the number of bees alone that take 
part in the process of fertilization ! — bees with 
abdominal collecting-brushes and long probos- 
cides ; the specially long-tongued Bombtis and 
Anthophora ; other bees with long or moder- 
ately long proboscides ; bees of the genus Pro- 
sopis, themselves possessing a peculiar odor, and 
preferring highly odorous flowers ; Andre7iadce 
and ApidcB ; hive-bees and bumble-bees ; work- 
ers and drones ; big bees and little bees ; and 
almost every variety of Hymenoptera with a 
sting in its tail. 

The Lepidoptera, to which belong the but- 
terflies and moths, are likewise highly important 



220 2rf)c CKartrcn's Storj?. 

agents in the evolution of flowers, for which they 
are peculiarly fitted by their long, thin probos- 
cides, enabling them to probe the most various 
flowers, whether flat, long, or tubular. Even at 
night, in fragrant gardens, in lonely meadows, in 
the most sequestered woods, the process of in- 
sect fertilization goes on continuously. Then it 
is that the great nocturnal hawk-moths, their 
two immensely long, hollow laminas coiled in a 
spiral, emerge at twilight to haunt the lighter- 
colored flowers, which exhale their odor most 
powerfully at night. Verbenas and petunias, 
always intensely fragrant at this time, are espe- 
cially sought out by the crepuscular Lepidopte- 
ra. Like the humming-bird and swallow, the 
body of the great sphinges, tapering at the tail, 
and the stiff, pointed, sharply-cut wings, are 
framed with special reference to agility and sus- 
tained flight — agility to avoid their pursuers, and 
great strength of wing to sustain constant sus- 
pension in mid-air. I have seen the deliciously 
scented Japanese honeysuckle {Lonzcera Halle- 
ana), on warm June and July evenings, swarm- 
ing with the large Sphinges, including S. Caro- 
lina, S. cinnerea, and the smaller S. drupif era- 
rum, the former being present most numerously. 
The humming of the rapidly vibrating wings, 
the quick, furtive flight, the perpetual hovering 



i«i) Knscct Uisitors. 221 

over the flower-chalices, the curious coiling and 
uncoiling of the great suctorial tubes, are a feat- 
ure in the strange processes of Nature that, once 
seen, can scarcely be forgotten. 

Miiller, from whom I have already drawn 
largely on this fascinating subject, referring to 
the dusk-loving Lepidoptera, explains that the 
rapid movements always characteristic of this 
species may be due " to the shortness of the 
period suitable for their flight, or to the pursuit 
of bats." In cases which have come under my 
own observation, I have noticed that ih^ Spkz'ngcc 
appear most numerously at dusk, haunting their 
favorite flowers with little diminution for about 
two hours, and apparently decreasing in num- 
bers as the night advances. Bats, I have repeat- 
edly noticed, seem most abundant during the 
early hours of night. Tennyson's passage in 
" Mariana " — 

After the flitting of the bats, 

When thickest dark did trance the sky — 

would corroborate this, if the poet meant to 
italicize the anterior preposition. 

While angling for speckled trout at night in 
summer, I have observed, where the bats were 
very numerous, their sudden departure and sub- 
sequent appearance, at perhaps quite long inter- 



222 STfje CGattien's ^torij. 

vals. Attracted by the abundance of stream- 
frequenting Lepidoptera, the Cheiroptera dis- 
continued their aerial chase so soon as the quar- 
ry withdrew from the neighborhood of the water, 
returning with the reappearance of their prey. 
Upon the retirement of the bats, the trout in Hke 
manner ceased to rise freely to the artificial 
white moth, the time of the " take " being ap- 
parently regulated by the presence of the bats, 
though governed really, of course, by the return 
of the insects in their merry-go-round over the 
surface of the stream. Finally, the flowering 
period of my Japanese honeysuckle I have always 
found a certain index to the commencement of 
night-fishing. 

I am not aware whether the great sphinx is 
too big a mouthful for the bat ; he is certainly a 
bonne bouche for the greater and the lesser owls. 
Several summers ago I was awakened suddenly, 
about midnight, by a strange noise, as of some 
one raising the awning and tiptoeing on top of 
the veranda. A bright moon was shining, and 
not a breath of air was stirring. On the veran- 
da's rim, looking down upon the honeysuckles 
and their honey-seeking visitors, stood two small 
screech-owls ; while, startled from his perch 
upon the awning, a great horned owl flew away 
without a sound. 



ifHj? Knsect Vfsftors. 223 

" The swift, violent movements of the Lepi- 
doptera," the author of " Die Befriichtung der 
Blumen " continues, " is of very great impor- 
tance to the plants they visit ; for the more flow- 
ers that will be visited in a given time, the less 
the time spent on each, and the shorter the 
time spent in the flight from one to another. 
This explains how many flowers have adapted 
themselves specially to nocturnal insects, both 
by their light colors visible in the dusk, and by 
their time of opening, of secreting honey, or of 
emitting their odor. The SphittgidcE perform 
their work as fertilizers with peculiar rapidity, 
dropping their long proboscides into a flower while 
hovering over it, and instantly hastening away 
on their violent flight to another. Accordingly, 
most nocturnal flowers have adapted themselves 
specially to these Lepidoptera, hiding their honey 
in such deep tubes or spurs that it is only acces- 
sible to the SphmgidcE." 

To the Lepidoptera is assigned- the sec- 
ond or third place as fertilizers before or 
after the flies. No special mention of the 
humming-birds as flower-fertilizers is made by 
Miiller, who confines his observations strictly to 
insects. 

Very many flowers that are only accessible to 
the butterfly, moth, and humming-bird, on ac- 



224 5ri)c CKattJcn's .Stora?. 

count of their long, contracted nectaries, have 
become, as we have seen, gradually developed 
or modified through the agency of their visitors ; 
w^hile the colors, odors, and periods of opening 
of flowers generally are in relation to the tastes 
and habits of the insects that frequent them. 
Odor, no less than conspicuousness, is a power- 
ful magnet to the insect tribes ; indeed, strong 
scent is even a greater attraction than brilliant 
colors. 

Many flowers are both conspicuous and odor- 
iferous. On this point Darwin observes : " Of 
all colors, white is the prevailing one ; and of 
white flowers a considerably larger proportion 
smell sweetly than of any other color, namely, 
14.6 per cent ; of red, only 8.2 per cent are odor- 
iferous. The fact of a large proportion of white 
flowers smelling sweetly may depend in part on 
those which are fertilized by moths requiring the 
double aid of conspicuousness in the dusk and 
of odor. -So great is the economy of Nature, 
that most flowers which are fertilized by crepus- 
cular or nocturnal insects emit their odor chiefly 
or exclusively in the evening. Some flowers, 
however, which are highly odoriferous depend 
solely on this quality for their fertilization, such 
as the night- flowering stock {Hesperis) and 
some species of Daphne ; and these present the 



if^w insect VmtoxB. 



225 



rare case of flowers which are fertilized by in- 
sects being obscurely colored." * 

Thus we see how important a part the insect 
world has taken in the evolution of the floral 
world, and how much the beauty and variety of 
the garden owe to the myriad murmuring wings 
which ceaselessly ply their appointed task of de- 
velopment and improvement. 

* " Cross- and Self -Fertilization," p. 374. 





igttrbj) 6l)rubs anb (Sllimbcrs. 



Among the links between man's mind and Nature we may 
place, as one of the most obvious, man's earliest attempt to 
select and group from her scattered varieties of form that 
which — at once a poem and a picture— forms, as it were, the 
decorated border-land between man's home and Nature's 
measureless domains, The Garden. — Bulwek, Motive Power. 





X. 




HARDY SHRUBS AND CLIMBERS. 

INCE the lilacs were in bloom there 
has been no lack of other shrubs to 
extend the blossoming season. The 
slender-branched Deiitzia {D. gra- 
cilis), the rough-leaved {D. scabrd), D. Pride of 
Rochester, D. crenata fi. pL, and others of the 
species, are all indispensable flowering shrubs, 
appearing in the order named. Scarcely less 
effective are many of the shrubby Spirceas, 
which flower in the following order, from the 
middle of May to the middle of August : 
{\) Prunifolia fi. pL, Thtmbergii ; (2) Nicon- 
derti ; (3) chamccdrifolia ; (4) cratcpgifolia, 
lanceolata, lanceolata fi. pL, lanceolata robus- 
t<^ / (5) uhnifolia ; (6) opulifolia aurea, cre- 
nata ; (7) Fontejtaysii, salicifolia, sorbifolia ; 
(8) Billardi ; (9) ariccfolia ; (10) callosa, cal- 
losa alba, callosa superba, species Japonica. S. 



230 2ri)e ^Jarticn's Storj. 

opuUfolia aiirea is a valuable variety, with gold- 
en-yellow foliage. It deserves a place by itself, 
or plenty of room to develop in the shpubbery. 
Soon after its blossoming period, the four-cleft 
seed-pods of the cymes, which are thickly clus- 
tered along its drooping branches, turn to a 
rich terra-cotta shade. This shrub, when once 
pruned into symmetrical shape, should receive 
as little pruning thereafter as possible, or the 
light, graceful effect of the sprays will be de- 
stroyed. 5. Japotiica is of recent introduction, 
a graceful, medium-sized species, covered in 
July with attractive, rosy-red cymes. 

The native white fringe {Chionanthus Vir- 
ginicd), though classed as a tree, should be in- 
cluded among flowering shrubs. It is distinct 
and beautiful, with its glossy leaves and feathery 
plumes of pure white, fragrant flowers. Its odor 
reminds one somewhat of the native yellow- 
wood {Cladrastis tinctoria or Virgilia luted), 
one of the finest of ornamental trees, with wis- 
taria-like racemes of fragrant white flowers, pro- 
fusely produced during midsummer every other 
year. This vies with the lime-tree in the attrac- 
tions it presents to the bees. 

Of the snow-balls there are a score of varie- 
ties to choose from. Among these, the com- 
mon Guelder rose ( Viburnum, opulus sterilis) is 



?i^artJjj <Si)rui)» anti (tlimljers. 231 

among the best. The Chinese V. plicatum is 
the finest of all, surpassing the common variety 
in habit, foliage, and flowers, and it is not un- 
justly considered one of the most valuable orna- 
mental shrubs. There are likewise very many 
varieties of the syringa, or mock-orange, to select 
from ; some earlier and later, some with larger 
and smaller flowers, some odorless and some 
intensely perfumed. Doubtless the familiar gar- 
land syringa i^P hiladelphicus coronarius), one 
of the earliest to appear, is as satisfactory as any 
of the strongly scented kinds. P. Gordonianus, 
2l late bloomer and vigorous grower, is more 
delicately perfumed. The golden-leaved syringa 
(/*. foliis aureis) should be in every choice col- 
lection of shrubs ; its shape is easily maintained, 
and its vivid golden foliage is valuable for en- 
livening the shrubbery or contrasting with pur- 
ple-leaved subjects. 

Some like the odor of the elder- flower ; many 
do not share the preference shown for it by 
the flies. In any event, the variegated-leaved 
variety {Sambticus variegatd), its foliage mot- 
tled with white and yellow, is one of the best 
variegated-leaved shrubs. The elder's cymes, 
produced so profusely, are alw^ays beautiful. 
The golden-leaved variety has vivid yellow foli- 
age, but, somehow, appears to have a sickly 



232 STftc CKarlrcn's Storj). 

look, or to have assumed an autumnal hue be- 
fore its time. The fern-leaved and cut-leaved 
varieties are both fine ; and S. nigra, a medium- 
sized European species, gives us handsome pur- 
ple-black berries in the fall. The Halesza, or 
silver-bell {H. tetrapterd), a beautiful, large 
shrub, with white, bell-shaped flowers in May, 
should not be overlooked. Besides its peculiar 
flower, it is distinguished by its large, four- 
winged fruit. 

During latter June the laurel-leaved privet 
{Ligustruni laurifoUuni) is laden with its spikes 
of creamy-white flowers. This and the box- 
leaved variety are probably the two finest ; the 
latter retains its thick, dark-green leaves for a 
long period, and both are of erect and handsome 
habit. But the privet is liable to suffer from 
extreme cold, and is slow to recover when af- 
fected. The white alder, or sweet pepper-bush 
{Clethra alnifolid), should have a partially 
shaded and sheltered position, as well as abun- 
dance of moisture, to do it justice, its natural 
habitat being swamps and low woods. A drive 
through the woods on the New England coast 
in August is rendered doubly delightful by its 
delicious breath, rising from the shaded thickets 
where it grows in the greatest luxuriance. On 
account of its graceful and fragrant flower- 



J^artig S!)nii)s anti <i!rifmbcrs. 233 

spikes, its neat habit, and its florescence when 
most other shrubs have passed, it should be 
seen much more frequently in the choice shrub- 
bery. The button-bush {Cephalanthiis occiden- 
talis), which often keeps the Clethra company, 
is a desirable shrub, with attractive foliage, and 
round heads of sweet-scented white flowers ap- 
pearing at the same period. 

Kalmia latifolia, a member of the ornament- 
al heath tribe, would be one of the most desira- 
ble medium-sized shrubs if it could be grown as 
it grows itself. But I find it useless to attempt 
in western New York, where artificial culture is 
entirely unsuited to it, under whatever condi- 
tions of soil and position it may be tried. The 
leaves of the Kalmia are said to be poisonous 
to some animals, and the honey derived from it 
has been known to prove fatal in several in- 
stances. It is always well to try new plants 
which one admires, or plants that have been 
recommended; but, when one does not aspire 
to having a botanical collection, it is also well to 
drop all subjects that one does not admire, or 
that prove themselves ill adapted to the climate. 
Still, a plant may be well worth cultivating in 
one climate and worthless in another — I might 
almost say, successful in one's neighbor's gar- 
den and a failure in your own, or vice versa. 
17 



234 2rf)e CKartien's Storjj. 

Only through experimenting, however, can one 
determine what to attempt and what to avoid. 

Of the Diervillas, or Weigelas, many of the 
so-termed rose-colored kinds, I think, are to be 
avoided. The nurserymen's catalogues swarm 
with the many varieties of this shrub. The typ- 
ical color — " rose " — is poor, and I should con- 
demn the Weigela as a garden shrub were it 
limited to its commoner form. The white va- 
rieties, on the contrary, are desirable, and so 
are some of the dark reds, which are not fre- 
quently seen. A clear, rose-colored variety, re- 
cently introduced under the name of " Othello," 
is an exception to the typical rose-color, and is 
possessed of much merit. The dark form, " Jean 
Mace," lately sent out, is distinct, its long, tubu- 
lar, maroon flowers being specially striking in 
the bud stage. " Edouard Andre " and " Laval- 
lei " are among the best of the dark hybrids, but 
the latter has a straggling habit. Most of the 
Weigelas are apt to grow straggling with age — 
an objectionable feature of the genus. 

The Hibiscus, althaea, or rose of Sharon, is a 
charming adjunct to the shrubbery — neat in 
form, free-flowering, and always gay during late 
summer and September, when the shrubbery 
begins to look dull, and the sad-voiced crickets 
remind one that the floral beauty of the year has 



jE^artrj St)nil)s anti €:liml)ers. 235 

begun to wane. Both the double and single 
forms are fine ; and the white and flesh-tints, 
with their distinct dark eyes, are the most pleas- 
ing colors. The purples and violet-reds are for 
the most part objectionable. " Painted Lady," 
the name of one of the varieties, well describes 
the lively flower of the althcea. The variegated- 
leaved variety is one of the finest variegated- 
leaved shrubs. 

Hydrangea paniculata grandifiora, the 
great - flowered hydrangea, is a splendid late- 
flowering shrub, with its immense panicles and 
changeable shades, and it should enliven every 
garden in September. Nor should the early 
white- flowering Exochorda, the fragrant white 
upright honeysuckles, the sweet-scented Caly- 
canthus, and the Colutea, or bladder-senna, at- 
tractive for its reddish seed-pods, be overlooked 
in the collection of shrubs. 

Besides the flowering species, there are many 
shrubs which deserve a place on account of pe- 
culiar habit, characteristic foliage, or colored 
fruit. Of shrubs with dark-colored foliage, the 
purple-leaved barberry, purple-leaved plum, aftd 
many of the dwarf Japanese maples, may be 
specified. Of shrubs with variegated foliage, 
there are several varieties of the shrubby dog- 
wood ; several of the Weigelas ; the silver- 



236 2ri)e CKartJcn's Ston). 

leaved Cor chorus ; the white-edged and golden 
privets ; the golden sj^ringa ; the variegated- 
leaved elders ; the variegated St. Peter 's-wort ; 
the variegated althaea. Numerous shrubs, also, 
are valuable for their ornamental fruit, which 
succeeds the flowers. In this class the fol- 
lowing are all excellent : The common bar- 
berry, with scarlet and violet fruit in Septem- 
ber ; the red dogwood, with white berries in 
September ; the red- and the white-fruited Eu- 
onyjmis ; the red-fruited Cotoneaster ; the Cor- 
nelian cherry, with its large and showy red fruit 
in August ; ElcsagJius edulis, with red, cherry- 
like fruit in midsummer ; the red-berried Vibur- 
nimi opulus and black-berried lantanoides ; the 
black-fruited elder ; and the snowberry. There 
are, moreover, many trees and shrubs, beauti- 
ful for their autumnal coloring, which should 
be remembered ; these will be referred to in a 
subsequent chapter. 

No garden is complete — if a garden can ever 
be complete — without its flowering climbers. 
Even the kitchen-garden should have its scarlet 
pole-beans, and the front veranda, at least, be 
festooned with blossoming vines. But there are 
so many desirable sorts, that all suitable places 
about the house and grounds should be utilized, 
to enjoy as many of them as possible. The wis- 



^nvtts <Sl)rul)s antJ €:limi)eri5. 237 

taria alone holds a whole summer of fragrance 
in its June cascade of bloom. Those who care 
for variety have a number of kinds to choose 
from, though none equals the robust, hardy, and 
free-flowering Chinese blue. It is at home in 
any exposure, and only needs support to a suffi- 
cient height to prove one of the finest ornaments 
of the garden. By planting it on the north and 
on the south side of the house, its flowering 
period may be greatly extended, a vine placed in 
the former position coming into bloom just as 
one in a southern exposition is passing. 

The numerous species and varieties of vir- 
gin's-bower, or Clematis, are beautiful for veran- 
da and trellis decoration, as well as for fence- 
screens, for pillars along garden-walks, and for 
training on walls and arbors. Few hardy plants 
afford such combined beauty, luxuriance, and 
continuous bloom. For a full description of its 
hundred species and varieties, the reader should 
consult Moore and Jackman's " Clematis as a 
Garden Flower," the most comprehensive trea- 
tise on the subject. Of the several types, the 
'Jackinanni and Viticella are the most gener- 
ally seen — the common Jackmanni, all things 
considered, being the most satisfactory repre- 
sentative of the genus ; these flower during sum- 
mer and autumn in continuous masses on sum- 



238 Eiit ^articn's .Storw. 

mer shoots. The Laitugittosa type, of which 
the white C. Henryi is the finest example, flow- 
ers during the summer and autumn succession- 
ally on short lateral summer shoots ; flowers dis- 
persed. The Viticella type, represented by C, 
V. venosa, C. v. inodesta, etc., blossoms in the 
summer and autumn, successionally, in masses, 
on summer shoots. The Graveolens type, flow- 
ering on the young growing summer wood, 
some of which are odorous, comprises a series 
of hardy, fast-growing species of easy culture. 
The Mo7ttana, Patens, and Florida types blos- 
som on the old wood, and include the earliest or 
spring-flowering divisions of the family. The 
Patens type has supplied a large number of va- 
rieties, some of which are sweet-scented. To 
this section belong the fine, large varieties, Edith 
Jackson, Fair Rosamond, Miss Bateman, and 
others. In whatever form or color it occurs, 
whether appearing in sheets of purple, like 
Jackmanni or Alexander, or wreathing a road- 
side hedge with white garlands, like our native 
virgin's-bower, the clematis is a flower which 
always claims our admiration. 

Most of the clematis are easily grown in rich, 
deep, friable loam, and should be mulched with 
old manure in winter, and given abundance of 
water during dry weather. Partial shade serves 



JI^KxXis St)tul)s anTi €:liml)cr». 239 

to develop the color and size of the flowers. 
English growers advise that the clematis be 
richly manured ; some American growers, that 
it must not have manure about the roots. In 
any event, the best results are obtained by plant- 
ing it in new soil, in partial shade. Not unfre- 
quently the roots of many of the clematis be- 
come infested with a grub, which forms knobs 
along the fleshy roots, often impairing the vital- 
ity of the plant. A species of blight also attacks 
it sometimes, causing the plant to die down, but 
apparently not injuring it below the surface. 
The clematis is of comparatively recent intro- 
duction to this country, but has already become, 
through one of its types, at least — Jackmannz — 
the most popular, perhaps, of climbing flowering 
plants. 

It is well that no one flower combines every 
quality, and that the more conspicuous forms of 
the clematis are odorless. Were this not the 
case, it would be planted still more extensively, 
and we should lose much of the variety which 
other climbers contribute. Showy as it is, it 
can not take the place of the climbing rose, the 
joy of many an arbor and veranda ; or the honey- 
suckle, sweet as its mellifluous name. The lat- 
ter is an old favorite, and one that no other flow- 
ering vine can well surpass. Attractive in all its 



240 CTfjc ®ar"Dcii*s Storij. 

forms, the recently introduced Japanese species, 
Lonicera Halleana, is its most beautiful repre- 
sentative for the veranda, arbor, trellis, or wall. 
This, though comparatively little known in Eu- 
rope, is widely disseminated with us, where it 
was first introduced with the beautiful Japanese 
Magnolia Halleana, by Dr. Hall, of Elmira. 
I know of no climber that combines so many 
good qualities ; for, independent of its vigorous 
growth and prodigality of fragrant white blos- 
soms, it would be beautiful for its dark-green 
evergreen foliage, which it retains during a great 
portion of the winter. 

With honeysuckles, as with many other 
things, however, absolute perfection is seldom 
found in a single variety or individual. While 
this species is as yet without insect-enemies, and 
is unquestionably hardy, it is nevertheless liable, 
even after having passed unscathed through sev- 
eral severe winters, to die down suddenly in 
spring, apparently from the effects of the cold. 
This is the case mostly with old plants, and I 
am not certain whether it is entirely a matter of 
climate, or whether it is not due partly to its 
habit of twining so closely as to strangle itself. 
But it is so rapid a grower that plants are soon 
replaced, and its odor is so delicious and its 
blooming period so continuous, that it is worth 



^l^artJj) Sf)rul)s anti €:liml)crs. 241 

having at any pains. ' Its fragrant white flowers, 
passing to yellow, are, as previously stated, a 
powerful magnet to the bees and honey-seeking 
insects. The green leaf-cricket loves its shady 
tangle, and I always hear his first ode to autumn 
among its leaves. The long spur, recurved pet- 
als, and feathery stamens, characteristic of the 
honeysuckle, are seen to advantage in numerous 
other species, the next best to Halleana being 
the monthly fragrant, or Dutch, a vigorous climb- 
er, with red and yellow fragrant flov^ers appear- 
ing all summer. The Japanese golden-leaved 
variety is handsome, with its foliage netted or 
variegated with yellow. 

For pillars and arbors, the native trumpet- 
flower {Tecoma radicans), and its darker form, 
T. r. var. atrosanguinea, are valuable climbing 
shrubs, becoming* picturesque with age. The 
large, vivid red, tubular flowers in clusters are 
very conspicuous, showing well from a distance, 
where it may be placed to the best advantage as 
a pillar-plant. Actinidia polygatJiia is a hand- 
some Japanese climbing plant, with dark, clean 
foliage resembling that of the apricot. Its flow- 
ers are white, with a purple center, and some- 
times cover the whole vine, the fruit being 
round, edible, and fine-flavored. Other hardy 
flowering climbers which may be specified are 



242 



CCtje CKartien's Storg. 



Akebia qmnaia, a singular Japanese climbing 
shrub, with fine foliage, purple flowers, and 
ornamental fruit ; the large-leaved native climb- 
ing staff -tree {Celastrus scandens), with yellow 
flowers and clusters of orange-capsuled fruit ; 
the moonseed {MenispennMin Canadense), a. na- 
tive, twining, slender-branched shrub, bearing 
small yellow flowers and black berries ; the silk- 
vine {Periploca Grcecd), a handsome, fast-grow- 
ing European climber, with glossy foliage and 
purple-brown axillary clusters of flowers. The 
native wild bean {Apios tuber osd) is a small- 
growing vine, with racemes of reddish-brown, 
fragrant flowers, recalling the perfume of vio- 
lets, which is best left to twine around the royal 
fern, with which it is almost always found in 
company. 





j?u anli ont of tl)c (^arbcn. 

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, 
Though to itself it only live and die. 

Sonnet XCIV. 

Not only the days but life itself lengthens in summer. 
I would spread abroad my arms and gather more of it to 
J(ie could I do so. 

Richard Jefferies, The Life of the Fields. 





XI. 



IN AND OUT OF THE GARDEN. 




MUCH-NEEDED rain has come at 
last — a steady, drenching, searching 
rain ; a freshening, quickening, revivi- 
fying rain — a rain that has oozed down to the bot- 
tom, that has loosened the soil and cleansed the 
foliage, and sought out every root and rootlet 
beneath the ground. Light showers are of little 
service in time of drought ; they are like the 
efforts of the garden-hose, and have no lasting 
effect. The colors of the flowers have come out 
with renewed intensity, and there is a marked 
increase in the luster of the foliage. The lark- 
spurs are as brilliantly blue as the sky above 
them, and the scarlet lychnis (Z. chalcedonicd) 
burns as intensely as the setting sun. This is 
one of the most dazzling summer flowers ; a 
single bloom of it, when well grown, will show 
its color to advantage. It is one of those peren- 



246 SriJt CKartien's Storj?. 

nials that may be dotted here and there in the 
border; its scarlet is so strong, it does not require 
to be planted in masses. This varies somewhat 
in the size of its flower-heads and the intensity of 
its hue according to the soil and the season. 

The same observation holds good with very 
many subjects, that some years prove extremely 
satisfactory and again are disappointing. A 
thorough rain at the right time does wonders 
toward heightening the hues of flowers ; and 
cool weather is everything in holding the color 
of many subjects. Certain varieties of roses 
which faded rapidly one season, and which I had 
condemned on that account, I have found, an- 
other season, when the weather was favorable, 
entirely satisfactory. So that it is not always 
possible to judge of the merits of a flower from 
a single season's experience. Neither can one 
expect that a species which is desirable in one 
place will invariably prove so in another — so 
much depends on climate, soil, and the caprice 
of the weather. 

A fine contrast to the scarlet lychnis, besides 
the larkspurs, roses, excelsum and candidum 
lilies, is Chrysantheimwt ?naximum, a grand, 
hardy Marguerite, which has large white tilaisy- 
like flowers, with yellow centers, on stiff stalks. 
The narrow notched leaves are of a deep green, 



Kn nnti out of tfjc CKarticn. 247 

the foliage abundant, and the plant of elegant 
habit. 

Bupthalmum cordifolhun, the European 
ox-eye, is a stout perennial with large leaves, 
that opens its yellow blossoms the latter part of 
June, soon after Anthemzs tinctoria. It is far 
too coarse to take the place of Coreopsis lanceo- 
lata, and is most suitable for the rear, or the 
wild garden. 

Many of the Centaureas, the plant which 
cured the foot of Chiron, wounded by the arrow 
of Hercules, are valuable border-plants. The 
large blue flowers of C. montana appear early in 
June. This is not so neat in habit as some ; but 
its blue is beautiful and the flowers charming in 
the cut stage. The flower of C. Ruthentica ap- 
pears on a very tall stalk, rising high above the 
somewhat sparse foliage, shortly after the ap- 
pearance of C. montana. The single blooms are 
large, but they only hold their color and fresh- 
ness for a day or two. C. macrocephala is a 
robust, thick-foliaged species, with large bright- 
yellow flower-heads ; and, while showy as a 
border-plant, it is not as fine as C. glastifoHa, a 
more elegant plant, which succeeds it. I think^ 
this the finest of the large species, crowned in 
July with a perfect mass of golden bloom on 
branched stalks four to five feet high. The sil- 



248 Srije CKartren's .Stotj. 

very buds themselves are handsome for several 
weeks before they open. C. dealbata, an earlier 
species from the Caucasus, is a medium-sized 
plant, with silvery foliage and pretty rose-purple 
flowers. The Persian sweet-sultan (C moscha- 
td), though an annual, is always worth the trou- 
ble of growing. 

One of the largest-leaved perennials is the 
great groundsel {Senecio macrophylld), the leaves 
of which attain an immense size in shade, but as 
yet 1 have been unable to cause it to flower ; the 
leaves wither quickly in the sun, and it is also 
very sensitive to dry weather. S. pulcher, a very 
late species, bears large purpHsh blossoms, with 
yellow centers, a handsome and distinct flower, 
the best of its tribe. Scabiosa Caucasica is by 
far the best of its section of the teasel family, 
and, being a perennial, is more valuable than 
the biennial S. atropurpurea, also a handsomie 
flower. When grown in congenial soil the for- 
mer is a beautiful medium-sized border-plant, its 
large, flat lavender flowers being very distinct, 
and gracefully placed on tall stems. 

In specifying Lychnis chalcedonica as one 
of the most dazzling reds, I meant no reflection 
on the scarlet avens or Geum. It has as bright 
an eye as a rabbit ; at least, it is as red as a rab- 
bit's eye. An inhabitant of the Bithynian Mount 



Xn anti out of t\)t CGartJcn. 249 

Olympus, its single is beautiful, and its double 
doubly so, as it remains so much longer in per- 
fection. The Japanese Veronica longifolia sub- 
sessilis, a midsummer flower of recent introduc- 
tion, is unquestionably the finest herbaceous 
speedwell. Its flower is a lovely deep blue, and 
its foliage handsome. It is in all respects a su- 
perior border-plant ; this species, however, does 
not make seed. 

Where the climate suits it, the large horse- 
mint {Monarda didyma), one of the best of the 
big labiates and the finest of the genus, is a valu- 
able garden-flower. The leaves possess a strong 
mint-like odor, and the dark red of its flowers is 
striking. It is apt to encroach upon its neigh- 
bors, however, and requires abundant moisture. 
This species is said to give a decoction but little 
inferior to the true tea, and was formerly largely 
used as a substitute in Pennsylvania. 

There are numerous species of the Statice, or 
sea-lavender, the best of w^hich is S. latifolia. 
The Statice is invaluable for bouquets, and should 
be in every garden for cutting, to employ in the 
old-fashioned nosegay. One sometimes becomes 
tired of the regulation bouquet, composed of a 
single flower, and then the Statice helps one out. 
I see it now, its feathery sprays rising above 
the sweet-smelling nosegay composed of car- 
18 



250 E\)t CKartJen's Storj. 

nations, mignonette, feverfew, bachelor-buttons, 
Iceland poppies, pinks, larkspurs, sweet-will- 
iams, and lemon-verbena. There should always 
be plenty of these old-fashioned flowers to cut 
from. 

The grand inflorescence of the chestnut-trees 
on the hill-side is mostly past — not, however, be- 
fore the cicada rings out his song of heat. I in- 
variably hear his first overture while the chestnut 
is still in bloom. I love his magnificent cres- 
cendo. How broad his diapason, and how so- 
norous the mighty volume of sound ! It is the 
most fervid of all summer sounds, this ringing 
expression of drought and heat, produced by the 
hind-legs with which he leaps, said Aristotle two 
thousand years ago. It is pleasant to know, 
according to another classic — Zenachus — that 
the cicadse live happily, since they all have voice- 
less wives ; the two drums on either side of the 
body under the wings not existing in the female. 
The cicada's song brings up Meleager and The- 
ocritus, the classic cicada, I believe, being a spe- 
cies of Tettix or harvest-fly, erroneously termed 
"locust." Independent of entomological accu- 
racy, cicada is the preferable name ; it has a 
drier and more sibilant sound. Virgil's cicadae 
are querulcB and raucce ; Martial's, argutcB and 
mhufnajtcs. In the " Anthologia," on the other 



Kn antJ out of tije ©artrcn. 251 

hand, they are always sweet singers. Meleager's 
cicada is a 

Charmer of longing — counselor of sleep ! 
— The corn-field's chorister 
Whose wings to music whir. 

Theocritus can only find in the cicada a minstrel 
sweet enough to compare with the song of 
Thyrsis : 

For sweeter, shepherd, is thy charming song, 
Than ev'n cicadas sing the boughs among. 

There is much of the delightful old Hellenic 
philosophy in Thoreau's sentence : " The things 
immediate to be done are very trivial ; I could 
postpone them all to hear this locust's song." I 
find the cicada somewhat like the rain — there is 
always an interval between the first drops and 
the down-pour, as there is between the first 
warning of the Tettix and his subsequent chorus 
of heat. 

The grasshopper and cricket have but just 
begun their song in faint, quavering notes, which 
they will increase with the advance of the season, 
and the male green leaf-cricket is voiceless as yet 
on the honeysuckle-vine. These wuU atone ere 
long for the silence of the birds whose voices fail 
as the insect stridulation gathers force. 

On sandy banks the butterfly-weed {Asdepias 



252 Efft ©fartren's Storii. 

tuberosa) was gay a fortnight since with orange 
corymbs. It is among the brightest of summer 
flowers and the most brilliant of the extensive 
milkweed tribe that crowds and perfumes the 
waste places during summer. Leaving the sandy 
places where it grows, I find the wild rose still 
in blossom. How full the aroma held by its 
few single pink petals — a freshness and pungency 
its cultivated sisters do not possess for all their 
double cups and titled names ! In the swamp 
further on, where virgin's - bower and purple 
nightshade wreath their festoons, there streams 
a veritable sunset of color. The gorgeous car- 
dinal-flower {Lobelia cardinalis) is in full pano- 
ply of bloom — the most vivid red of the year, a 
red that seems endowed with conscious life, so 
glowing is its fire. Growing near it I find the 
great blue lobelia (Z. syphilitica), a conspicuous 
flower, and more rarely its white form, with an 
occasional plant of the fragrant snake - head 
{Chelone glabra^. 

Something fascinating there is about a swamp 
— its rare flora, its gloom in daylight, its fresh- 
ness in drought, its ever-present mystery. You 
can not grasp it as you can the dry woodland. 
The ver}^ birds are evasive, and its flora leads 
one deeper and deeper into the tangle where the 
woodcock springs from the thickets of jewel- 



fin anti out of tt)e ©fartnen. 253 

weed and the owl skims noiselessly from his twi- 
light haunt. The plaintive cry of the veery from 
the tree-tops above only serves to emphasize its 
silence, while the scream of its warder, the blue 
jay, seems its voice speaking to the solitude. I 
usually find what might be termed a foot-path 
threading a swamp, not always readily discerni- 
ble, but sufficiently marked to make it appear a 
foot-path, the highway of the hares and wild 
animals. These resort to it not only for food 
and water, but for warmth and security. The 
hibernating birds turn to it instinctively and seek 
it for their winter quarters. 

The swamp is Nature's sanctuary — the great 
gamekeeper and game-protector. It is the ram- 
part of the landscape. Within its sheltering 
arms is nurtured the most beautiful of sylvan 
utterances, the roll-call of the ruffed grouse. 
Without its helping hand both furred and feath- 
ered game must in many localities become vir- 
tually exterminated, and a wood without game is 
a wood devoid of one of its most individual at- 
tributes. There is ever a charm in the elusive, 
the untamed in nature ; to have its wild animate 
forms about us, though we may only clasp the 
shadow. The trout-stream in its mazes through 
the woods possesses an additional voice and 
meaning to me for the radiant life that lurks 



254 2rt)c CKartien's Storj. 

within its pools and shallows. I care less for 
the rod than to feel the rightful habitant is at 
home. 

The owl's weird cry borne upon the Decem- 
ber dusk without brings the wintry woods into 
my room — the rustle of dry beech-leaves, the 
breath of lichens and of pines. All Nature for 
the instant seems articulate in his cry. You 
may never meet the fox face to face unaided by 
the hounds ; but it is a satisfaction to know he is 
present. Keen of scent and fleet of foot he has 
passed long before you, evaded you ; yet he is 
there, somewhere, farther on amid the mystery 
and silence, in all his lissome grace and supple- 
ness of sinew. The very footprints of the hare 
recall the living presence of the hare, his wild 
beauty and his nimble speed. So that in a 
swamp or wood tenanted by game this fascination 
is ever present — the living unconfined creatures 
appearing a component part of the trees and un- 
dergrowth, with which they blend and become 
incorporated, just as the shadows belong to and 
accentuate the strength of the sun. So also in 
the garden copse, when the mold is starred with 
Hepaticas and Trilliums, the wild flowers are 
obliterated for the moment to me when a squir- 
rel barks or a white-throated sparrow sings. 
In the swamp, on blustering days without, I 



Kn anti out of t!)e ©fartien. 255 

see the downy woodpecker's scarlet coronet, his 
busy mallet beating its sonorous rat-tat-tat on 
hollow trees. I catch, too, the fine call-note of 
the little brown-creeper running up and down 
and around the limbs and tree-trunks in quest of 
his food, and hear the flute-like call of the tree- 
sparrow feeding on the spicy buds of the sweet 
birch. I mark the caressing "day, day, day " of 
the black-cap chickadees, happy in the cold and 
storm, while the solemn " yank, yank, yank " of 
the nut-hatch is never still. Leaving the woods 
proper on a windy winter's day, even a sheltered 
beech-wood where the clinging foliage of the 
beeches and hornbeams wards off the wind, there 
is an ever-fresh surprise in the absolute absence 
of wind and positive warmth of the swamp. 
Green as in midsummer are its club-mosses and 
evergreen ferns, and the goldthread, winter- 
green, and partridge- vine seem merely hibernat- 
ing beneath the snow. A temperature it pos- 
sesses of its own — cool in summer and warm in 
winter — and a flower I find cradled in its shade 
always appears to have gained in purity or re- 
finement of hue. 

Another shade-loving plant now passing out 
of blossom is the white swamp honeysuckle 
{Azalea viscosa), succeeding the pink A. nudi- 
flora, whose fragrant flower-clusters, exhaling 



256 Ei)t eSfartJen's Storg. 

the characteristic honeysuckle odor, proclaim its 
presence. The tall red lilies along the edge of 
the swamp have long since made their summer 
display ; but the fading flower - spikes of the 
greater orchid are still seen in low places just as 
the ladies-tresses are forming their flower-heads 
amid the meadow grasses. The spring beauty 
and Trillhmi have vanished from the woods, 
and Hepatic as and Violas are hidden by the 
stronger growing plants of midsummer. There 
is a crowd of tall evening primroses, white and 
purple Eupatoriums, pink Epilobiums, blue ver- 
vains, pale asters, yellow golden-rods, and heli- 
anthuses, all jostling and striving for supremacy. 
Growth is rank on every side. It is the seed- 
time and harvest of the big weeds, when the 
waste places become a veritable jungle, perilous 
and almost impassable to man and beast. It is 
the high carnival of sticktights, nettles, burdocks, 
briers, brambles, tares, thistles, teasels, and noli 
me tangeres innumerable, among which the true 
touch-me-not or jewel-weed least deserves its 
name, for there is nothing noxious about it or 
vicious in the strange bursting of its seed-pods 
at the touch, whence it derives its appellation. 
The sticktight, the tare, and the burdock are the 
true fiends incarnate among the sticking and 
stinging weeds. I revere the inventor of cordu- 



£n anti out of tfje €fartren. 



257 



roy, the only coat of mail with which one can 
wade comparatively unscathed through the gant- 
let of these tramps and ruffians of the field. 

The everlasting is white with flower in the 
pastures, and on sunny upland slopes rank upon 
rank of mullein-spires tower above the carpet of 
fragrant pennyroyal. Along the water- courses 
Heliopsis Icevis has set its fringe of gold, visible 
from afar, the avant-courier of the pageant of 
autumn that will come in a tidal wave of color 
to brighten the declining year. 




I A...:^....^.. v.m: 




^\)c §arb2 Icxncx^, 



You will pardon some obscurities, for there are more 
secrets in my trade than in most men's. And yet not vol- 
untarily kept, but inseparable from its very nature. I would 
gladly tell all that I know about it, and never print " No 
admittance" on my gate. — Thorkau. 






XII. 
THE HARDY FERNERY. 

[HATEVER the garden may owe to 
hardy flowers, and however varied and 
attractive its collection of shrubs and 
trees, it would still be lacking- in one of its great- 
est charms if deprived of ferns. They are the 
very quintessence of the woods, whether they 
rise to form a classic urn like the great ostrich, 
or quiver on ebon stems like the lovely maiden- 
hair. The very name has a fresh, fragile sound 
in any language — Filices, felci, fougeres, 
Farnen, fer7ts. The fern offers no excuse for 
not possessing flowers. Color, other than its m- 
finitely varied greens and the dark spore-cases 
underneath or on the margins of the fronds, 
would mar its beauty. Its green and its grace 
are its flower, and Nature wisely left it a flower- 
less plant, the embodiment of beauty in foliage. 
When well gjown the fern carries its character- 



262 2r!)e CSarTicn's Stotg. 

istic tropical effect to the garden, and, once es- 
tablished, the hardy fernery may become one of 
the finest ornaments about the home. It is, 
however, seldom seen to good advantage under 
cultivation, for the simple reason that it is gen- 
erally left to take care of itself, a matter it is 
never called upon to do in its native state, where 
It is protected from wmd, has its fronds moist- 
ened by condensation, and is provided with con- 
genial soil and coveted shade. The delicate 
beauty of a fern-frond can not be obtained out- 
side of its native habitat without in part repro- 
ducing the natural conditions under which it 
grows. Shade, shelter, moisture, and suitable 
soil are its main requirements. Some species, of 
course, occur naturally in sunshine and dry soil, 
and these may be grown under like conditions. 
The long period during which they retain the 
freshness of their fronds is a notable feature of 
the genus, while, whatever the season of the year, 
some of the species are found perennially green. 
Most hardy ferns are not difficult to cultivate, 
many being very accommodating and growing 
where little or nothing else would. Hot summers 
do not affect them disastrously as is the case 
with many plants, providing sufficient water be 
supplied at such times. 

On the north side of the house, beneath the 



5[|)e ?^artJg JFernerg. 263 

shade of non-surface-rooting trees and in low, 
moist positions, a very large number of hardy 
native species may be successfully grown. Not 
a few of the species, even those which naturally 
occur in shade, will do well in open places, 
though, except some of the sun-loving kinds, 
few will attain that luxuriance and delicacy of 
color they possess in shade or partial shade. 

A shady and sheltered position will, there- 
fore, be chosen for the hardy fernery ; for shelter 
from winds is no less important than protection 
from the direct rays of the sun. This position 
should be readily accessible to a fine dust-spray 
attached to the hose. Ferns are generally found 
in moist situations, thriving in a humid atmos- 
phere ; and these conditions must be followed as 
nearly as possible. But while ferns and moist- 
ure are almost synonymous, constant watering 
is, nevertheless, to be avoided. It is only when 
the soil is becoming dry, before the dr^'ness is 
felt and shown by the sensitive fronds, that water- 
ing is necessary. The foliage of ferns does not 
like constant drenchings, pelting rains frequently 
being as injurious as severe winds. But the 
effects of wind are more severely felt where the 
plants do not receive their necessary supply of 
moisture, the stems becoming more brittle if the 
roots are not moist and cool. Watering the 



264 2ri)e ejartien's Storj. 

grass and the surroundings of the fernery in 
the evening, when the ferns themseh^es do not 
require watering, is appreciated by the plants, 
this tending to preserve a humid atmosphere. 
Watering a little every day or two merely keeps 
the surface damp, and does not reach the roots, 
or prevent the foliage from becoming dry. It is 
far better to give a good supply of water occa- 
sionally, as the plants require it ; an observation 
that will apply equally to most other hardy 
plants. Having chosen the position for the 
fernery, the ground should be dug to the depth 
of two feet, and filled in for the most part with 
black muck, leaf-mold, and a small portion of 
sandy loam. This gives a light, elastic soil, re- 
tentive of moisture and suitable for most ferns. 
The fernery is much benefited by a liberal top- 
dressing of old leaf-mold every autumn ; and, 
aside from the protection to some of the less 
hardy species, a thick winter covering of leaves 
and evergreen boughs is advisable, in order to 
prevent the heaving of the ground by frost. 

The common ostrich-fern {Onoclea struthiop- 
teris) is among the most robust and easily grown 
of the genus, which numbers in the United 
States some one hundred and sixty-one species, 
fifty of which are indigenous to the State of New 
York. On account of its strong growth and the 



Efft yj^artij iFerncri>. 265 

frequency with which it throws out suckers from 
its rambling rhizomes, it is best placed by itself. 
Planted numerously with other species it soon 
crowds them, unless the suckers are checked. 
Few plants have a more tropical effect than this, 
a mass of it forming a grand feature of any gar- 
den. It is well and tersely described by Gray — 
" a fern of noble port." This does best in shade, 
but it may also be grown in sun. 

The royal fern {Osmimda regalis), which be- 
longs to the class of flowering ferns, is rarely 
seen to good advantage under cultivation. It is, 
likewise, one of the most robust of the genus, 
occurring naturally both in open sun and dense 
shade, but always in wet or moist situations. 
Perhaps there are none of the large species 
whose color varies so much, the young plants, 
more especially in sunny situations, assuming 
varied shades of reddish-green. In rich, marshy 
places it frequently grows to a height of five 
feet. It is pre-eminently a bog-garden plant, 
where it may be grown as vigorous as it occurs 
naturally, the bronze and copper hues showing 
more boldly in open situations. A smaller form 
{O. gracilis) occurs, with broader foliage and 
more urn-shaped than the type. 

A very common fern, found in dry places, is 
another of the same species, the interrupted 
19 



266 E\)t (SidLxtitn's .Storg. 

flowering fern (O. Claytoniand), interrupted near 
the center of the leaf-stalks by several pairs of 
fertile leaflets densely covered with brownish 
sporangia. This gives a rusty, unfinished look 
to the fronds, and for this reason it is undesira- 
ble for the fernery, and not to be compared with 
another of its family, the cinnamon-fern {O. cin- 
namomed). The yellowish fertile fronds of this, 
springing from the center of the plant, during 
its younger stage, are distinct and beautiful, 
while the species is a tall, robust grower. 

Perhaps the most distinct of native ferns is 
the sensitive fern {Onoclea sensibilis), common 
to low woods and moist grounds. Aside from 
its striking peculiarity of foliage and its dark- 
colored spore-cases, its young fronds, through- 
out the summer, wear a lovely light-green hue 
possessed by no other member of the genus. 
The sensitive fern should be grown in shade, 
the fronds quickly becoming scorched by sun. 
It would impart a distinct appearance to the 
garden landscape grown en masse, being so 
rarely seen in gardens. It is one of the best 
ferns amid which to plant the tall wild red lilies. 
Owing to its being somewhat tardy to start into 
growth, the latter do not become choked, as they 
are by the more forward and ranker-growing os- 
trich. 



E\)t ?^artis iFctnerM. 267 

The common brake or bracken {Pteris aqui- 
lind), while distinct from the generality of ferns, 
is not worth cultivating, unless on the margins 
of woods, or places where little else will thrive. 
It spreads with great rapidity, and soon becomes 
a pest if placed among other ferns. The big 
moonwort {Botrychiu?ii virginicum), the largest 
of the species, differs essentially from most of 
the genus. It is termed " a beautiful fern," but 
does not show to advantage when planted with 
others of its tribe. 

The shield-ferns, or AspidiecE, number many 
of the noblest of hardy ferns. Of these, the de- 
ciduous A. aculeatum and A. Goldiammt, the 
evergreen A. achrosticoides, A. cristatum, A. 
fiUx-mas, A. inargmale, and A. 5pinulosu7n 
are among the finest, best known, and most 
easily grown. Nearly all of the species, what- 
ever their size, are delicately beautiful, the finely 
serrated plumes being a conspicuous character- 
istic. The woods where I find the ruffed grouse 
and the large white hares in winter would seem 
lonely without the freshness of the Christmas- 
fern and the perennial verdure of the evergreen 
wood-fern. The frost, whose sharp scythe has 
cut off the foliage and the flora, seems only to 
have brought out a richer green in these flower- 
less plants, that never look half so lovely as they 



268 STfte CKartJcn's jStorj. 

do in winter. They seem the type of hardiness 
and longevity, and mask the loneliness of the 
leafless trees. 

Every one knows and admires the maiden- 
hair {Adiantum pedattun), its fragile, polished 
stem supporting its delicate lace-work of foliage. 
Erroneously supposed to be difficult to cultivate, 
the maiden-hair, nevertheless, takes quite kindly 
to cultivation when placed amid congenial sur- 
roundings and allowed time to become estab- 
lished. Two among medium - sized ferns — 
Cystopteris fragilzs and C. bulb zf era — deserve 
a place on the front edge of the fernery. If the 
former has a fault, it is the early discoloration of 
the fine fronds. But it is one of the most grace- 
ful of its tribe, as well as one of the most for- 
ward to clothe with green the bases of trees in 
the woods of early spring. C. bulbifera is less 
common, but very prolific where it occurs — a 
delicate fern, with long, slender, arched fronds. 
I have found this troublesome in the rock-gar- 
den, on account of its coming up almost every- 
where soon after being introduced. 

There are numerous other desirable species, 
of large and medium habit, that may appropri- 
ately find a place in the hardy fernery ; but, for 
all ornamental purposes, a sufficient variety may 
be obtained by those already specified, without 



2r!)e Jl^artrg ifernerj. 269 

further extending the list. It is, perhaps, super- 
fluous to remark that where the fernery is placed 
by the side of the house, or against a wall, the 
more robust kinds should occupy the back- 
ground, and the smaller-growing species the 
foreground, where they can not become smoth- 
ered. Thus far I have referred only to the more 
robust species. But a great merit of the Filices 
is, that the smaller they become the more beau- 
tiful they seem. The little oak-fern {Phegop- 
teris dryopteris), for instance, whose delicate 
print is found on decayed logs and moist, shady 
places, is one of the loveliest of its family. 
The diminutive polypody, too, that drapes dry 
bowlders with its living green, is a fern one 
must always stop to admire, however common 
it may be. 

These smaller ferns, with many others, can 
not be grown with the larger sorts, and must 
have a special place, either the rock - garden 
proper or a small bed by themselves. The oak- 
fern and beech-fern are easily established in 
leaf-mold and loam. The common polypody 
and the larger and handsome Polypodium fal- 
catum are not always so accommodating, pre- 
ferring a mixture of peat, leaf-mold, and sharp 
sand or sandy loam. There are very many va- 
rieties of the polypody cultivated in England. 



270 STfje CKartfen'is Stori>. 

IVoodsm Ilvensis and W. obtiisa are beautiful 
small ferns. 

The curious walking-fern {Cainptosorus rhi- 
zophyllus) I have found difficult to establish, and 
the charming little maiden-hair spleenwort {As- 
pleniuin trichomancs), though numerous speci- 
mens of it live on from year to year, never looks 
quite vigorous. A. ebeneuin, a larger species 
from Oregon, I have found rather fastidious, as 
also Cheilanthes vestita and the delicate Crypto- 
gra7mne acrostichoides. The distinct hart's- 
tongue {Scolopendrium vidgare) does well with 
me. Upward of fifty forms of the latter are 
cultivated in England, many being of marked 
beauty. Asplenmm nigrum is an easily grown 
small English fern which will grace any collec- 
tion. Ceterach officinarum is likewise a very 
distinct and handsome small British fern, though 
not so easily grown as the latter. 

To grow the more delicate small ferns suc- 
cessfully demands a favorable climate and location 
with a thorough knowledge of their requirements, 
and only true fern-lovers who are willing to devote 
the necessary time and study will find it worth 
while to attempt the cultivation of the greater 
portion of the very beautiful smaller Filices. 

It is more satisfactory to collect ferns your- 
self; they then become a pleasing reminder of 



Effz ?^arT)3) iferncri». 



271 



many a locality where they were obtained. Re- 
moval may be successfully effected at almost 
any season. For beginners early autumn is a 
favorable time for collecting, as it is near the 
dormant season ; and yet the various species 
may be readily distinguished, the fronds having 
not yet dried. 





illibsntttttter iTlotDcrs axib ilXibsummcr 
l)0iccs. 



The Passion for Flowers is, indeed, one of the most en- 
during and permanent of all enjoyments. — Jesse, 






XIII. 

MIDSUMMER FLOWERS AND 
MIDSUMMER VOICES. 

FTER blossoming profusely throughout 
latter June and the first half of July, 
the Japanese honeysuckle, as if to em- 
phasize its attractions, again bursts into delicious 
bloom during late August and September. The 
tiger-lilies have been constant through late July 
until late August, when most of the species have 
passed. But the crowning glo^y of the lilies is 
auratum, which extends its blossoming period 
throughout August and September, no species of 
the genus being so continuous to blossom. The 
odors of Lonicera Halleana and Lilium aura- 
tum are not unlike, and numerously planted in 
front of the verandas they flood the whole house 
with perfume in the evening. A beautiful flower 
becomes doubly beautiful when it prolongs the 
usual flowering season, and, judged by this 



276 E\)z CKartJen's Stor^. 

standard, both the Japanese honeysuckle and 
golden-banded lily deserve our warmest praise. 

Some of the roses also are flowering for the 
second time. Among them I mark especially 
Marguerite de St. Amande, Marshall P. Wilder, 
and Paul Neyron. With them the following 
may be named as among the most free-blooming 
autumnal sorts : Comtesse de Serenye, Rev. J, 
B. M. Camm, Boieldieu, Frangois Michelon, 
Mabel Morrison, Louis Van Houtte, La Reine, 
John Hopper, Baroness Rothschild, Baron Pre- 
vost, Countess of Oxford, Eugenie Verdier, Marie 
Beaumann, Victor Verdier, Hippolyte Jamain, 
Horace Vernet. 

Very companionable during August and Sep- 
tember are the althaeas, almost the only flower- 
ing shrubs blossoming at this time. In the rear 
garden there is a swarm of bright flowering an- 
nuals — petunias, verbenas, calendulas, escholt- 
zias, nasturtiums, and marigolds. Herrick tells 
how marigolds came yellow : 

Jealous girls these sometimes were 
While they lived or lasted here : 
Turned to flowers, still they be 
Yellow markt for jealousie. 

This may apply to the orange-colored kinds, not 
to the big double lemon-yellows, too handsome 
to be jealous of any flowers of their color. 



iFWftrsrumnter jf\o\ntxn an"& TJofces, 277 

For weeks there has been a notable absence 
of bird-voices. The English sparrows are for 
the most part on a vacation to the grain- fields. 
The songsters are almost silent save the con- 
stant wood-pewee, who, however, only utters the 
first two notes of his plaintive cry. His is a 
haunting, melodious strain I should sadly miss 
from the copse and garden. The ornithologists 
describe his voice very variously. Coues speaks 
of the " sobbing of the little somber-colored 
bird " ; Wilson places him " amid the gloom of 
the woods, calling out in a feeble, plaintive voice 
' peto-way, peto-way, peto-way ' " ; Langille terms 
his notes " a slow, tender, and somewhat melan- 
choly whistle, ' pe-wee ' " ; Flagg refers to his 
** feeble and plaintive note " ; Trowbridge, in his 
poem, interprets his song, " Pe-wee ! pe-wee ! 
peer ! " Burroughs alone rightly describes it as 
" a sweet, pathetic cry." It is, in addition, a cry 
of considerable volume and penetration, its sweet- 
ness masking its real force, always plaintive, and, 
when the full strain is delivered, wonderfully 
effective at the close. I can not discern any- 
thing resembling " pe-wee " in either call or re- 
sponse unless it be in late summer. It sounds 
distinctly whe-ii whe ; whee u. 

The common pe-wee or phoebe-bird pos- 
sesses no such subtle charm. He never tires of 



278 E\)t ^arUcn's Storj. 

reiterating the two notes of his refrain. It some- 
times tires the listener, however, and a misog)'- 
nist might wonder if it is not the female who 
sings. 

To compensate for the silence of the birds, 
the insect world is shrilling con amore night and 
day. So many instruments compose the or- 
chestra that one is puzzled to place all the per- 
formers. Loudest of all is the cicada's great 
crescendo, overpowering the strumming of grass- 
hoppers and droning of diurnal crickets. The 
shrill of the common black cricket, produced by 
rubbing his legs sharply together, consists of 
three notes in rhythm, and is said to form always 
a triplet in the key of B. Night is the morning 
of the green leaf-cricket's day. At twilight or late 
afternoon he begins his even-song in strong, well- 
modulated notes, chanting continuously until 
daylight. His chorus it is w^e hear so steadily, 
commencing briskly in August, and uttered, now 
fast, now slowly, according to the warmth or 
coolness of the night. His voice is extremely 
deceptive, appearing to proceed from almost any 
place except the vine or tree overhead. A plaint- 
ive, soothing song he sings, a song in keeping 
with the season, pulsating with every change 
from heat to cold, and finally subsiding to a 
scarcely audible sob in late October. 



if^fOsiimmer i^lotoers anti Uofces. 279 

In the fields GrylUadcE innumerable are loud 
with song. Listening to the melody of their 
countless wings, strange it seems that their 
transitory existence is but the enactment in an- 
other world of the passions and jealousies of our 
own; that "Ca^xx allegro of stridulous sound is 
but an expression of the fierce rivalry of males ; 
that the grasshopper's voice proceeds from a 
stamping-ground of strife, and the " crink-crink " 
of crickets is largely the declaration of jealousy 
and hate. 

From the raspberry-vines rises a dreamy, 
summery voice, continuous during the day and 
not unfrequent during the night, proceeding 
from one of the small climbing crickets. Up go 
the long antennae and gauzy wings, and a pro- 
longed 

" Cree-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e " 
trembles upon the air. This is CEcanthus fas- 
ciatus, one of the pleasantest of insect-choris- 
ters. How his delicate wings withstand the 
constant scraping they do, and how they can 
produce such a clear, bell-like sound, seems in- 
conceivable. Like the green leaf-cricket, he is an 
accomplished ventriloquist. One of these, hav- 
ing escaped from confinement, and singing un- 
ceasingly, led me a twenty minutes' search ere I 
could locate his precise whereabouts from the 



28o 5rt)e ®JarTjen'» .Stotj). 

song, which seemed everywhere but the exact 
spot whence it proceeded. There is another in- 
sect, not a troubadour, who adds his harsh note 
to the orchestration of the hot nights of mid- 
summer and early fall. His stridulation pos- 
sesses the characteristic rasping of the katydid 
tribe, but is less intense. On cool nights he is 
silent, but as soon as the nights become warm 
he commences to file his saw until dawn. 

Of all familiar insect sounds, the voice of the 
cicada is the strongest, that of CEcanthus fascia- 
tus the most summery, the green leaf-cricket's the 
most plaintive, and the katydid's the harshest. 
The general effect of all these minstrels, save 
that of the katydid, is a soothing one. The 
bird-songs of spring are happy, merry, buoyant, 
I may say, wakeful — a triumphant major of 
song. The insect-chorus of fall is an ode rather 
than a lyric — a song pitched in a minor key, 
rising and falling amid the lengthening shadows 
and gathering haze of autumn. 

Latter midsummer and early fall bring a 
fresh color-surprise to the garden. It is the sea- 
son of the phloxes, tritomas, helianthuses, the 
great hydrangeas, the Japanese anemones, and 
the stately autumnal flowers — the gathering and 
concentration of months of warmth and sun- 
shine. One expects much of the late flora, it 



ifWrtrsunrmcr iFIotoers antr Uofces. 281 

has been so long about its task. Less of grace 
and tenderness it possesses than that of spring, 
but greater strength of stalk, and more of bold- 
ness and virility. The phlox, a genus exclusive- 
ly North American, constitutes, in the large gar- 
den species, one of our most varied and valuable 
hardy perennials. America has furnished the 
phloxes, Europe has hybridized them ; the gar- 
den perennial phlox, as it is now perfected, hav- 
ing originated from the tall-growing P. panicu- 
lata and its varieties, and the lower-growing 
P. maculata. That such brilliant varieties as 
" Lothair," and some others, are the result of a 
cross with P. Driminiotidii, would not seem 
improbable. The decussata class embraces the 
taller-growing varieties, the suffruticosa the 
smaller. 

The hybridized phlox has its own gamut of 
colors, like the hybridized azalea — hues and tints 
possessed by no other flower. These glowing 
shades of salmon, rose, and vermilion, together 
with the numerous pure white and creamy-white 
varieties, are the more striking from the grand 
flower-trusses and the tall stalks upon which 
they are placed. The phlox may be termed a 
necessary garden-flower. It is easy to grow, of 
hardy, vigorous habit, and there is no other 
perennial to supply its place. The largest truss- 
20 



282 2ri)c dJartJen's Storg. 

es are produced on two- and three-year-old 
plants. Renewal in some soils becomes neces- 
sary every few years. Where it thrives, how- 
ever, the magnificent head of bloom carried by 
an old plant is far more showy than the few 
larger trusses of a younger one. Pinching or 
cutting back the shoots in early June will render 
it autumnal flowering, and by thus treating a 
portion of the plants the flowering season may 
be largely prolonged. 

There is another advantage from pinching 
some of the plants : if the weather be unusually 
hot and dry during August, so as to cause poor 
flowering, the retarded plants will almost always 
have the advantage of cooler weather to flower. 
Pinching, however, is done at the expense of the 
size of the truss ; where large trusses are an 
especial object, at least half of the stalks should 
be cut out. The phlox needs abundant moist- 
ure during its florescence, and likes rich soil. 
Some phloxes, particularly the whites, are sub- 
ject to mildew in certain soils and during certain 
seasons. But the great enemy of the phlox is 
the larval grub of the big May beetle, with 
whom the roots of this plant are an especial 
favorite. His presence may be detected by the 
sickly appearance of the plant — a knowledge 
that usually comes too late. Young plants 



ifttftisummct: i^lotucrs anti Uoiccs. 283 

should be immediately lifted, the grubs de- 
stroyed, and the plants replanted in fresh earth. 
Old phloxes being impatient of removal, there is 
seldom any remedy when they are thus attacked. 

The great Chinese plume-poppy {Bocco7iia 
cordatd) is a very handsome late - flov^ering 
plant. It attains a height of nine feet, and the 
large terminal flow^er-panicles and tropical oval- 
cordate leaves are extremely graceful and showy. 
But it is a rambler at the root, and must have a 
place where the suckers will not cause trouble. 
It is not a safe plant for the border or the lawn 
on this account, where otherwise it would be 
highly ornamental. 

The Japanese Polygonu7n cuspidatuin is an- 
other grand herbaceous plant that is tempting to 
employ, but which he who is wise in his genera- 
tion will avoid. Once established, it becomes a 
horrible nightmare, and I doubt if there exists 
among hardy plants a more troublesome subject 
to banish. My experience has been confined to 
a colony in my neighbor's garden, close to the 
division-line, that from year to year extended its 
deep-rooting suckers farther and farther on to 
the lawn and borders. I shudder now when I 
think of the digging and trenching and under- 
mining and the barrels of salt it has required to 
prevent its intrusions. 



284 CTftc @?artren's .Storj?. 

I mentioned this pest to a friend noted for 
his marvelous knowledge of hardy plants, and 
for his splendid garden at Edge Hall, Cheshire. 
For once he was caught napping, and opened 
his garden-gate to a wolf in sheep's clothing. 
" I was younger than I am now," he remarked, 
with a smile illuminating his splendid face, " and 
have had fifteen years' experience with Polygo- 
mnn cuspidaHwi. It established itself in one 
part of my garden so that it has kept me busy 
fighting it for years ; and a man still works half 
a day every fortnight in the vain attempt to 
eradicate it." 

A fine, old-fashioned flower is the white day- 
lily {Ftmkia grandiflord), with pure white, fra- 
grant blossoms during August and September — 
a flower almost too common and well appre- 
ciated to need specification. The curled-leaved 
variety of the common tansy {Tenacetum vid- 
gare, var. crispuni) is well worthy a place in 
the flower or shrubbery border. Its scented 
leaves are refreshing to smell as you pass, and 
are as beautifully curled as the fronds of the 
crisped hart's-tongue fern. I had almost over- 
looked the garden thyme, now forming great 
cushions on the rock-work. It is aptly named 
from thiwios — courage, strength — the smell of 
thyme being reviving. The variegated-leaved 



ifWitisummct JFloluers antr VoktB. 285 

varieties — the gold- and silver-leaved — are the 
most desirable, always elegant in the rock-gar- 
den or flower-border. 

August and September are the months of the 
sunflowers, or HelianthecE, named from helios, 
the sun, and anthos, a flower, from the errone- 
ous but common opinion that the flowers always 
turn their faces toward the sun. The appella- 
tion is appropriate, notwithstanding ; for there 
are few brighter, more sun-loving flowers than 
this extensive tribe of the composites. The spe- 
cies grow mostly from four to twelve feet high, 
and are characterized by their large, showy, yel- 
low flowers, the largest being H. annuus, the 
well-known Peruvian annual. The Helianthus is 
coarser than numerous other garden favorites ; 
and while many of the species undoubtedly are 
better adapted for the wild garden, there are 
still a number well deserving a place in the 
flower-border and shrubbery. To combine size, 
hardiness, and luxuriant bloom, one must some- 
times put up with coarseness ; and any weedy 
appearance of the perennial sunflowers is more 
than atoned for by the gayety many of the spe- 
cies impart to the garden at a time when they 
are really required. To the sub-tribe of the 
HelianthecE, included in the tribe Asteroidece, 
belong also the Heliopsis, Rudbeckia, Echma- 



286 3rf)e 6JartJen*s ^torj?. 

cea, and Coreopsis, mostly perennials in the style 
of Helianthus. From all of these we have a 
great mass of yellow autumnal blossom not to 
be dispensed with. All the sunflowers grow 
well in any common garden soil, most of them 
being easily raised from seed, while many read- 
ily form hybrids. 

Among the earliest is the showy ox-eye {He- 
liopsis l(zvzs), frequent along streams and banks, 
where its numerous yellow flowers form vast 
golden streamers during August, conspicuous 
from a great distance. At nearly the same time 
Helianthus divaricatus peoples the thickets 
and meadows — a brilliant lemon-yellow flower. 
Later comes H. decapetaliis, the blossom not 
unlike the preceding, but the plant more bushy 
and more numerous flowered. H. tnuliiflorus 
bears showy yellow heads, there being a major 
variety of this superior to the type. The double 
form (//. m.jiore-plemis), much seen in gardens, 
is among the most conspicuous of perennials, 
carrying a huge sheaf of golden bloom, the large 
double flowers remaining long in perfection. H. 
multifiorus increases very fast, a small root set 
out in early spring forming a large bush by Au- 
gust. The flowers are always larger on young 
plants ; after the second year they diminish in 
size, when the plants should be divided. Rud- 



JHRrsummer iFlotoers an"tr Uofces. 287 

beckia hirta, the orange-daisy of the fields, 
would be desirable were it not so common a 
weed ; R. nitida, a taller-growing plant, is one 
of the best of its class. 

Much resembling some of the perennial sun- 
flowers is Siiphimn perfoliatum, one of the sev- 
eral coarse, tall-growing rosin-plants, flowering 
in July and August. It has huge leaves, great 
clusters of large lemon-yellow flowers, and grows 
seven to ten feet high. The most remarkable of 
the genus is S. laciniatuin, the compass-plant of 
the prairies, which is said to have the peculiarity 
of turning the edges of its lower leaves. north 
and south, but this is not noticed in cultivation. 
This grows from eight to twelve feet high, hav- 
ing large yellow flowers and immense leaves. 
Other species are astericus, integrifoHum, tri- 
foliatujn, terebitithmacemn, and asperriuimn, 
all with yellow flowers, and albijiorum, with 
white flowers. The proper place for most of 
the Silphiums is the rear garden, or the edge of 
a distant shrubbery, in masses. The Heleniums 
are tall-growing plants, with large yellow or 
orange flowers, similar to Rudbeckia. H. au- 
tttmnale, the most common of the genus, is a 
conspicuous plant, growing from two to three 
feet high. H. Hoopesi is a coarse plant, grow- 
ing three to four feet high, flowering in August 



288 2r|)e eJavtien's Storj?. 

and September. The flowers are showy, pro- 
duced in umbels ; the color of rays and disk is 
uniform bright orange. H. pumilicm is the 
smallest and perhaps the poorest of the genus, 
none of which take the place of the Heliaiithus. 
Helianthus rigidus, generally known as Har- 
palitmi rigidum, is a very striking early species, 
with large, brilliant, dark-yellow flowers. It is the 
lowest-growing of the genus, not exceeding four 
feet in height. Its habit is to run much at the 
root, and therefore it soon becomes troublesome 
in the flower-border. But it should not be neg- 
lected on this account, and a place should be 
found for it where it will have room to make its 
bright midsummer display. The Echinacea, or 
cone-flower, on account of the large heads of 
purple produced by E. purpurea and E. angus- 
iifoliay is worth growing. Coreopsis lanceolata 
is the finest of its genus, although C. grandi- 
Jiora, C. pubescens, and C. auriculata are not 
unlike it. C. verticillata is a small and pretty 
species, with delicate foliage and numerous small 
yellow flowers. C. prcecox is not worth growing, 
notwithstanding it is described as *' cette char- 
tnante espece " in the suave French catalogues. 
Other fine Helianthece are : Helianthus dorojii- 
coides, H. struinosus, H. orgyalis, H. giganteus, 
H. tuber osus, and H. Maximiliani ; the last 



i[iafDsuinmer JFlotocrs anU Uoiccs. 289 

three growing from nine to twelve feet high. 
H. giga7iteMs has purphsh stems, rough, hairy, 
lanceolate, and sessile leaves ; flowers two and a 
half inches across, abundantly produced in Au- 
gust. H. doronicoides is one of the finest of the 
sunflowers, a large-flowered, large-leaved, tall- 
growing species, with bright-yellow blossoms. 
H. Maxiiniliani requires a warm climate to 
show flower, it bemg the latest of the genus to 
blossom. 

At this season spiders become very annoying 
in the garden, weaving their webs among the 
flowers and leaves, so as to give an untidy ap- 
pearance to the shrubs, vines, and flower-bor- 
ders. They may serve some subtle purpose be- 
sides catching flies, these hordes of weavers, big 
and little, white and brown. But their dust and 
leaf and insect and pollen-strewn shuttles are 
certainly unclean. The sparrow will not w^alk 
into their parlor, and brushing away the webs or 
drenching them with the hose is merely tempo- 
rary. There is but one way to treat the Sep- 
tember spider — to follow the example of the 
mistress of the house, and kill him, cruel as it 
may appear. 







iTlotDers axxb iTruits of Autumn. 



t' 



Let the shadow advance upon the dial-I can watch it 
with equanimity while it is there to be watched. It is only 
when the shadow is not there, when the. clouds of winter 
cover it, that the dial is terrible. 

Richard Jefferies, The Life of the Fields. 






XIV. 
FLOWERS AND FRUITS OF AUTUMN. 

LEAS ANT weather glides by so swiftly 
in the garden, that September is well 
advanced toward October before we 
realize that the year has begun to wane, and the 
flowers have but a brief period to stay. Yet a 
glance at the border reveals no such apparent 
consciousness on their part. June, with all her 
exuberance of bloom, scarcely contributes a 
grander floral display than do the stately flowers 
of September — the Helianthecn, the decussata 
phloxes, the perennial asters, the Japanese anem- 
ones. The lavish odors and delicate hues of 
the early season are lacking in the later flowers ; 
a ripe brunette in yellow has come to take the 
place of the fair young bride of Spring. A full 
supply of moisture during the first part of the 
month has had a beneficial effect in prolonging 
the freshness of vegetation. It is only the ever- 



294 2rt)e CKartren's Storg. 

increasing chorus of crickets, the lengthening 
shadows, and an admonitory rustling in the fast- 
ripening leaves of the trees that point inexorably 
to the hour of the year. 

For the second time many of the larkspurs 
are blossoming. In the rock-garden the little 
star-grass, Viola pedata bicolor, and the white 
and purple V, cornuta simulate another spring. 
Campanula Carpatica is covered with bloom ; 
Tunica saxifraga has not ceased to blossom 
since early summer, and Spiranthes cernua re- 
mains the sweetest wild flower of September. 
The Cannas and the great Japanese variegated 
grasses are just attaining their full beauty. 
When planting Eulalias, the smaller-growing 
E. gracillina univitata should not be omitted, 
an extremely distinct and beautiful species with 
wiry, grass-like foliage. 

But the garden will not take care of itself 
even now ; to preserve its fresh appearance the 
knife must be frequently employed to remove 
the withered stalks, and the rake to collect the 
fallen leaves. Left to themselves, the borders 
would already look rusty in August, and remov- 
ing withered leaves and stems forms no small 
portion of the season's work. The stems of 
many perennials should not be cut down entire- 
ly ; they serve more or less as a protection. It 



iFloU)crs antj jfniits of ^wtinnn. 295 

is well to treat them like the lily-stems, and not 
use the knife on many subjects, except gradually, 
as the stalks die down. 

The coloring fruits and the colored berries of 
many of the shrubs look so handsome at this 
season they might almost take the place of flow- 
ers. I question if the dahlia, in all its glory, can 
compare with many of the American crab- 
apples, or the double Helianthiis hold more of 
yellow gold than the quince-trees are coining. 
The colored berries belong more truly to Octo- 
ber than to September ; they supply us largely 
with brilliant reds, a color the garden falls some- 
what short of during the autumn, yellows being 
the dominant hues. The tall-growing Helian- 
thus orgyalis, the fathom-high sunflower, is a 
late arrival — a dark-disked, golden-yellow flower, 
that looks down upon many of its tribe. One 
never knows at what elevation it will cease as- 
cending until its sprays of blossoms unfold in 
late September. It is a lively, medium-sized 
flower, with delicate, long and very narrow lan- 
ceolate leaves, possessing what no others of 
the Helianthece with which I am familiar pos- 
sess — a pleasant perfume. Its stalks, how- 
ever, are rather feeble — they have so high to 
reach — and its effect is much enhanced by care- 
ful staking. It is best placed in the shrubbery. 



296 2rf)e ^artien's ^torg. 

where it can receive partial support from other 
subjects. 

Formerly the dahlia was much more fre- 
quently seen than now. Of late it is again be- 
coming a favorite, many good singles and semi- 
doubles having been added to its numerous 
forms. The dahlia is a handsome old-fashioned 
flower, always effective in the shrubbery, and 
extremely desirable for cutting when arranged 
with its own foliage. Symbolically it stands for 
elegance and dignity. It might equally well be 
the type of steadfastness, the cut flowers being 
so lasting. None of its classes, including edged, 
tipped, laced, show, and fancy, are prettier than 
the tall, pure white, red, and yellow pompones. 
Many other forms are showier, with much larger 
flowers. The dahlia must be included among 
those flowers possessing a special scale of color, 
notably its dark reds, merging from vermilion 
into deep maroon, and folded petals almost like 
black velvet. 

There are very many fine forms and varieties 
of the Caiifia, small and large, and with light- 
and dark-colored foliage. Principally planted 
for its grand foliage effect, its brilliant strelitzia- 
like flowers are highly ornamental as well. The 
Canna may almost supply the place of both 
Tritoma and gladiolus, combining, as it does, 



jFloh)evs anti J^vuits of Autumn. 297 

intense color of flower with great beauty of 
foliage and habit. So many species and varie- 
ties exist that a list of them would become 
tedious and confusing; the wild forms number 
nearly a hundred, with garden hybrids and semi- 
nal varieties innumerable. 

The big phloxes continue to be the most mag- 
nificent flower of late September, the pure white 
" Vierge Marie" and the coppery-red " Oberon " 
showing superbly against a line of light-green and 
purple-leaved Cannas. Above the copse the sink- 
ing sun shines on the grand flower-heads of a long 
row, and earher and earlier every day lights up the 
red trusses with intenser fire. The position is a 
partially shaded one, the soil light sandy loam 
well enriched, the plants five years old ; in this 
position the grubs have scarcely troubled them. 
The phlox exhales a delicate yet pronounced 
odor, the sweetest-smelling flower of late au- 
tumn after the auratums have passed, except 
the fragrant double ten-weeks' stocks {Matthio- 
la annua), the nutty odor of which it much re- 
sembles. The floral opposite of the crocus, the 
hardy colchicum or autumnal crocus, is now in 
bloom, its brilliant purple appearing after the 
leaves have died down, reversing the order of 
the spring flower it resembles. Or is the col- 
chicum really the first spring flower, appear- 
21 



298 Srije ®fartren'» Storg. 

ing months before the appointed time of its 
sisterhood ? 

Hydrangea paniculata grandiflora should 
be a conspicuous flower in all gardens during 
the autumn months. Unfortunately, it does not 
thrive in some soils, where it becomes a prey to 
the red spider. This species may sometimes be 
seen in perfection in one garden and worthless 
in an adjoining one. Apart from climatic influ- 
ences the failure of certain plants is often puz- 
zling. Much, I think, depends on vigorous sub- 
jects to start with. Many plants grown year 
after year by the nurseries in the same soil seem 
to become enfeebled, or at least to transmit a 
feeble habit to their offspring. 

Situation likewise has much to do with the 
failure of a plant — too much sun, too much shade, 
or too much wind. Manure is frequently in- 
jurious to many subjects, and grubs and insects 
are more numerous in some places than others. 
Some soils dry out quickly; others lack some 
essential' element ; still others become weak and 
deficient in vitality. Manuring in the latter case 
may assist but does not remedy the trouble. 
Working over the soil by deep trenching, and 
adding virgin soil and other elements that are 
wanting, is perhaps the most effective and trouble- 
some way out of the difficulty. If one could 



iFloVoers anti jfxmts of Autumn. 299 

only change old soil into new and transform an 
inland climate into a climate of the sea-coast at 
will, how much easier gardening would be ! But 
even then there would be too much or too little 
lime, or somethmg else would be wanting, I sup- 
pose — "man never is, but always to be blest." 

Pope was a gardener, of course. That he 
was passionately fond of gardening can not- be 
doubted in view of his statement, as given by 
Walpole, that of all his works he was most proud 
of his garden. He was a landscape-gardener 
rather than a floriculturist, however, painting 
with trees instead of flowers ; and when we look 
over the great field of those artists whose canvas 
was Nature herself, where shall we find one who 
possessed the flowing, natural touch of Downing ? 

A wild garden, what Bacon termed his 
" heath or desert, framed as much as may be to 
a natural wildness," is a delightful feature of a 
place. Here among autumnal flowers belong 
many of the huge HelianthecE, Silphiiwis, large 
starworts, and everlastings. There being no 
formality, it does not matter so much if the 
plants become overcrowded. The occasional 
presence of golden-rod will scarcely prove an in- 
trusion, and the wild rose, bitter-sweet, fire- 
weed, and clematis may be allowed to roam at 
will. Such a tangle should, of course, be placed 



300 STJe ^Jarticn's ^torj). 

in the distance, or spring upon one unawares. 
We should see more of this " natural wildness " 
in places whose extent and natural features are 
adapted to it, a source of far greater satisfaction 
than the flaring General Grant geranium-beds 
that often disturb the sense of repose. The 
prim modern garden, too, almost always lacks a 
pleasing feature of the ancient garden when 
rightly carried out ; it has so few spots to lounge 
in. There is a dearth of garden-seats, niches, 
and benches, and vine-draped arbors and clois- 
tered summer-houses. And where has the old 
sun-dial disappeared, that used to count the time 
so leisurely and shadow the passing hours ? 

The equinoctial has come and passed, shed- 
ding a mild persistent rain instead of the frigid 
down-pour it often brings. It cleared off with a 
blazing fire in a cool western sky and a mellow 
orange after- glow. A rarer, more exhilarating 
air has followed in its train, through which the 
first yellow streamers of the elms and birches 
gleam like molten gold. There is a richer color 
on the great hydrangea's plumes, a more satiny 
whiteness in the chaste blossoms of the larger 
anemone. A few days more, and the first white 
frost will settle upon the lowlands — a white mist 
rather than a white frost, that must soon set its 
blighting touch upon the flowers. If we might 



iflotocrs anti iFruits of Slutumn. 301 

only store these golden autumn days to draw 
from during the tedious months of winter when 
the shadow is not on the dial ! The next best 
thing is a gracious autumn lingering into late 
November, when the fire of the year goes out so 
slowly that it seems still to flicker amid the pat- 
tering rime. 

Autumn is the harvest of those flowerless 
plants par excellence, the fungi, when old past- 
ures and orchards and close - cropped sheep- 
walks yield up their treasures. There can be 
nothing pleasanter at this season than an expe- 
dition into the country in quest of the pink 
mushroom of the pastures. To inhale the air is 
in itself an inspiration, while road- side and lane 
are brilliant with the fall flora, and grasshoppers 
and crickets are chanting merrily in the fields. 
Then there is the excitement of pursuit and the 
triumph of capture. Mushrooms are like trout 
and game — they possess thrice the flavor where 
you earn them yourself or where they are sent 
by a friend. Neither should be purchased in the 
market ; the bloom has been brushed off, the 
freshness has fled. The mushroom is more 
easily procured from the pastures than by arti- 
ficial open-air culture. Like the poet, the out-of- 
door culturist is born, not made, and, I believe, 
must be born an Englishman. The leathery, in- 



302 STfte eSartien's Storj. 

sipid buttons the f'rench hatch out and send us 
from their Cimmerian caves become worse and 
worse every j^ear, Uke the cuts off the tough Mon- 
tana rangers they are used to garnish. The large, 
high-flavored Cep of southern France, gathered 
like our Agaricus cafupestris from the open 
fields, is quite another thing, and is a prince of 
esculents when prepared a la Bordelaise. This 
agaric is ver>' little known ; it has even been 
overlooked by Gouffe and Francatelli. It may 
be had in good condition in the can of commerce, 
and, unlike the ckatupignon, is always tender 
and digestible. 

The common field mushroom itself is excel- 
lent a la Bordelaise, and, for those who do not 
know it, the recipe is worth quoting as a fragrant 
flower of the table when executed by a compe- 
tent hand. There is no more expert guide than 
fat old Baron Brisse {requiescat in pace). I 
know of none so concise and explicit as the au- 
thor of the " Petite Cuisine " : 

''Champignons a la Bordelaise. — Choose 
large and freshly gathered mushrooms ; wash, 
peel, and dry them ; soak them an hour and 
a half in fine olive-oil with salt and pepper; 
then place them on the grill and turn them. 
After cooking, dress them on a platter and sauce 
them with hot oil, to which add finely chopped 



jflotocrs antJ jFnuts of Autumn. 303 

parsley and young onions and a modicum {Jilet) 
of vinegar." Here, as is observed in the recipe 
of Morilles a I'ltalienne, " the trouble is trifling 
and the succulence is extreme." 

The crisp air of October piques the appetite, 
and with the advent of the mushroom season 
one may be excused from turning for a moment 
from the flowers to the flesh-pots. There is a 
freshness about the " Petite Cuisine " that is 
truly delightful. Most of the very numerous 
books devoted to French cookery are so elaborate 
as to be practically useless. Pierre Blot's is an 
exception, and did much to simplify many dishes 
of merit. Baron Brisse has gone still further 
and contributed a gastronomic harmony that de- 
serves to be translated into every language. His 
touch is so light ; his faults are so few. Brillat 
Savarin was a cook of acknowledged ability. 
His '• Physiology of Taste," however, is a mono- 
graph on the merits and eticjuette of gastronomy 
rather than a practical guide to the preparation 
of the dishes themselves. Quaintness and sim- 
plicity are one of the charms of the " Petite 
Cuisine," wherein a menu is given for every day 
in the year. It is almost Lamb dressed in white 
cap and marmiton who presides at the range. 
Spring comes to Baron Brisse not with the first 
primroses, but with the first peas, and autumn 



304 2ri)e ffiarTieirs Storjj. 

possesses no tinge of sadness so long as it ushers 
in the hunting season and the spoils of the 
covers. 

" Green peas ! green peas ! " he exclaims. 
" Of all street cries there is none that from base- 
ment to mansard so unanimously rejoices the 
hearts of all those that hear it. Green peas ! 
green peas ! This is the true spring ; this is one 
of its most adorable gifts ! " 

He speaks of pigeons which join to a touch- 
ing size an adorable savor. There are sixty-two 
ways of cooking them, he adds, " Some day I 
will give them all." The lark, always a favorite 
in France when done to a turn, he pronounces 
" detestable when not sufficiently cooked. If 
cooked too much it is still worse." A certain 
cream whipped with strawberries, of which he 
gives the recipe, he declares has left him many 
delightful souvenirs. Sorely distressed is he to 
trace the origin of a favorite e7itrde — sweet- 
breads a la gendarme. " This ' grasping (em- 
poignanf) noix de veau a la gendarme, is it the 
product of a man of arms, cook at his leisure, or 
of a master named Gendarme ? Will it ever be 
known ? My researches in this respect have 
been in vain." 

But while the baron is happy in an entree, 
he is pre-eminent in a piece de risistatice. The 



JfloVoers anXi Jfrufts of Slutumn, 305 

fertility of his resources is nowhere better illus- 
trated than in his resurgam of a leg of mutton. 
" A roast leg of mutton," he truly observes, 
" when it is perfect as to quality, properly hung, 
and properly cooked, is a gift from heaven ; but 
one finds it thus so rarely. A large gigot once 
cooked," he continues, " is supposed by house- 
keepers to be useless thereafter unless served 
cold or stewed. These ladies are mistaken ; it 
is easy to present a leg of mutton on the table 
twice in the same conditions of excellence, and 
as intact in appearance the second time as the 
first. 

" Gigot de tnouton roti rechauffS. — The 
gigot having been served once, and carved hori- 
zontally from one side only, wrap it in a piece of 
buttered paper and place on the spit. When 
well heated, lay it on a platter upon a generous 
puree of potatoes, the carved portion under- 
neath ; moisten gigot and purSe with a portion 
of its juice which has been kept in reserve and 
heated without boiling, and serve." So much 
of our happiness here below depends upon the 
cook and the gravy ! As in gardening, so in 
cooking — " Ce nest pas sans peine qit on gagne 
le del ! " 

To return to our mushrooms. Quantities of 
edible species exist in the fields and woods 



3o6 2ri)e 6fatticn's <Stotg. 

throughout the summer and fall, if we but knew 
them. They go to waste through our inability 
to distinguish the false from the true. The 
Gaul would have trained hogs and dogs to find 
them ; the Italian would subsist on them in the 
dried state during winter. The silver spoon is a 
good though not always a safe test to distin- 
guish them ; better are the sweet odor and flavor, 
often resembling those of the chestnut, which 
characterize many of the edible species. Still, 
fungi are dangerous playthings for those not 
thoroughly experienced in gills and pilei. It is 
perhaps better that we are restricted to the field 
mushroom, than which no native species is more 
delicious, and in identifying which it is almost 
impossible to be mistaken unless one be color- 
blind, and can not distinguish pink from orange 
or saffron. 

Brightest of the autumn flowers to enliven 
the lanes and road-sides are the purple asters, 
with the ever-surging sea of golden-rods, the 
rambling, canary-colored toad-flax {Linaria vul- 
garis), and an occasional pale-yellow evening 
primrose. Fields, meadows, and pastures are 
hoary with everlastings, and everywhere wave 
the white corymbs of the wild carrot. Here and 
there a stony field is sentineled with mulleins, on 
whose spires the goldfinches have congregated. 



iF'lotocrs anti j^rufts of Autumn. 307 

Along the road-side the elder-berry's cymes have 
been transformed to clusters of shining black 
berries, and ripe scarlet fruit shines through the 
tarnished foliage of the thorns. 

The asters are swarming with bumble-bees 
and butterflies — the small white and yellow but- 
terflies and the larger orange-blacks, all busily 
extracting a " last taste of sweets." I did not 
know the latter was ever so late an arrival, or 
that his chrysalis so resembles a Japanese' 
watch-charm. I found two belated chrysalides 
on the raspberry-vines. The color of the en- 
velope was dark bronze. Near one extremity 
were two burnished silver knobs ; near the oth- 
er, a necklace of raised, shining gold and enam- 
eled beads. Underneath the semi-transparent 
envelope the folds of the orange wings showed. 
I found the thin husks rent in twain the follow- 
ing morning in the glass in which they were 
placed, the two perfected insects struggling to 
escape from their narrow confinement. Brief will 
be their holiday in the slant autumnal sunshine, 
and " too late " the burden borne to them by the 
rustling breeze. Last year there was a storm of 
these brilliant insects in a neighboring grove, where 
they settled so numerously as to weigh down the 
lesser limbs. The year previous, a similar oc- 
currence was noticed along the lake-shore. 



3o8 ^rte ©artJen's Storj. 

The pretty yellow flower you noticed a month 
since along the ditches and low places is scarce- 
ly recognizable now. A friend then, to all out- 
ward appearances, it has turned to a foe, thrust- 
ing its javelins at whatsoever crosses its path. 
The bright-yellow petals have disappeared, the 
green disk has changed to rusty brown ; and the 
larger burr- marigold {Bidens chrysanthemoides) 
stands revealed in its true hideousness — an ugly, 
swarthy ruffian, at once an armory of halberds, 
arquebuses, arrows, and poniards. 

Finest of the extremely numerous asters that 
follow one during an autumnal ramble are the 
several forms of A. Nova; Anglian, the large 
purple ^tarwort of the road-sides, varying from 
lavender and rosy purple to deep purple. It is 
the richest and one of the gayeSt of the common 
late wild flowers, and, common as it is, is well \ 
worth a suitable place in the garden. It seldom 
looks so well under cultivation, for the reason 
that it is seldom planted in sufficient quantity. 
This is equally the case with most wildlings ; 
they should be seen in masses, as they oc- 
cur naturally, to disclose their true worth. 
" Enough " is not " as good as a feast " when it 
comes to flowers. 

Strikingly beautiful are the calendulas during 
October. Daring in their hues as the zinnea. 



i^lotoers antr ifrufts of Autumn. 309 

they never overstep the limits, and do not at- 
tempt to mix up crimsons with yellows. The 
orange verging to red, and the gradual shadings 
from buff to yellow and salmon of the rays, are 
a study and a joy in color. They last so long 
and withstand the frost so bravely, that the 
rear garden" and the center-table would seem 
lonely without them, and we may freely forgive 
their somewhat acrid odor. I found a large 
bunch of them upon the table to-day, in a low, 
blue cloisonne vase, the slanting afternoon sun 
streaming full upon them — an October sunset in 
the room. There should be a shelf of vases to 
choose from for arranging flowers — tall, flat, 
large, and small ; the floral picture, too, calls for 
its appropriate frame. 

Helianthus tuberosus, the Jerusalem arti- 
choke, shows a fine mass of yellow far above 
one's head, an erect, vigorous grower, with 
large, dark-green leaves and lively flowers. In 
its habit, and the size and brilliancy of its blos- 
soms, it surpasses H. giganteus. It comes late 
into blossom, and defies the frost. This, with 
many of the taller species, as has been stated 
before, looks best in the distance naturalized in 
large masses. They are admirably suited to 
low situations, where they can be looked down 
upon from an elevation. The tubers of H. 



3IO 2rt)e ^artien's Storg. 

tuberosus would be largely used as an esculent, 
if we had not the potato. They have a flavor 
somewhat like salsify or celery-turnip, and it 
seems highly probable that they were extensively 
employed by the aborigines as an article of food. 
The vermilion and light- red berries of the 
European and the American mountain -ash 
{Pyrtis aucuparia and P. Americana) are con- 
spicuous at present. One of the finest orna- 
mental trees, the mountain-ash, like the linden, 
is unfortunately subject to attacks from borers 
and ants, which eventually split the rind and 
destroy the vitality of the tree. The robins are 
numerous among its branches, feasting upon the 
berries. ^ Equally busy are they among the 
pears, apples, and grapes — meat-eaters in the 
summer and vegetarians in the fall. The robin 
has a distinct autumnal note, which I like to 
hear — a noisy call he utters when about to 
change his perch, or preliminary challenge to a 
raid upon the orchards, as if he knew he had a 
right to the spoils, and wanted his companions 
to share the feast. From the thickly foliaged 
thorn, hung with its scarlet fruit, comes a soft, 
tender, caressing song, one of the sweetest of 
the year — a warble so low, so sweet, so plaint- 
ive, I tiptoe closely to the songster to hear it. 
How charming the cat-bird can be when he 



J^loluers anti JFniits of Autumn. 311 

tries, and how different his dulcet autumnal ves- 
pers from the frenzied " Czardas " he is so fond 
of playing in the morning of the year ! 

I know many a man like him — grouty, fault- 
finding, storming in the morning ; mellow, ex- 
pansive, delightful in the evening. 

Every little while I catch a fragment of a 
familiar strain voiced by the song-birds on their 
southward flight as they pause for a day on 
their migration. From what distant coverts and 
unexplored forests has not that white-throated 
sparrow returned, whose silvery tinkle floats 
from the copse so musically, yet so plaintively, 
seeming like an echo of departed spring ! 

The yellow-birds, who are busy scattering 
the milkweed's floss, have a little lisping cry that 
always seems tinged with sadness at this season. 
Perhaps the season has more to do with the 
apparent sadness than the voice of the bird 
itself. If the frogs were vocal in October, no 
doubt the trombone of the great green batra- 
chian would seem a Miserere. Were the green 
leaf -cricket a spring chorister, his measured 
" Treat-treat-treat " would doubtless appear a 
buoyant " Friihlingslied." So much depends on 
association of familiar sounds with the season, 
or the circumstances under which they are 
heard. I can scarcely imagine how the call of 



312 E\)t CKatticn's Storg. 

the meadow-lark would sound from the depths 
of a thicket, or how much of its metallic quality 
the veery's song would lose if uttered in the 
open field. 

But the blackbird's notes during autumn are 
assuredly sad, as they linger over the withering 
stubbles, or drop down from the home-bound 
flocks at evening. Every morning, now, they 
pass overhead in large bands from the marshes, 
on the way to their daily forage-grounds ; and 
every evening, now flying low and now flying 
high, they return over the self-same route to the 
haven of the reeds. The majority are black- 
birds, though the starling and crow-blackbird 
feed with them, and form part of the morning 
and evening flights. The flocks grow larger as 
the season advances, and, when flying low in 
the calm of evening, cause a sishing sound, like 
the ebb of the surf upon the shingle. What a 
clamor there arises from the ebon flocks in the 
corn fields for weeks before their departure ; 
what garrulous sessions are held by the disput- 
ing crowds ere the date is fixed upon for their 
southward flight ! We may well wonder how 
the young birds are made to understand the sig- 
nal of departure, and marvel 

Who calls the council, states the certain day ? 
Who forms the phalanx, and who points the way ? 




QL\)c Cast ittonk's-lioob Spire. 



For never-resting Time leads Summer on 
To hideous Winter, and confounds him there ; 

Sap check'd with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone. 
Beauty o'ersnow'd, and bareness everywhere. 

Sonnet V. 




22 




XV. 



THE LAST MONK'S-IIOOD SPIRE. 




HERE is little left to tell of the flower- 
garden after mid-October ; its bright- 
ness fades rapidly with the shortening 
days. Glorious have been the great Japanese 
anemones ; they are the life of the borders in 
Octo])er, being to autumn what the daffodils are 
to spring. Dahlias, salvias, and ageratums have 
been struck by frost ; the anemones still linger, 
white as the snow-flakes they herald. The 
chrysanthemums are just appearing, among the 
latest of autumn flowers, and we once more 
touch our hat to China and Japan. For the 
fading flowers we have the brilliant fruits and 
berries, and the changing hues of the foliage. 
On yonder upland grove I see nearly every shade 
of red and yellow which the entire summer has 
contributed to the flower-borders. The maple 
would be held a sacred tree by the Orientals for 



3t6 Ei)t CJarlicit's .Storj?. 

its skill as a fall landscape-painter. Almost 
equally beautiful is the dogwood, a tree that 
should be in every garden, no less for its Octo- 
ber splendor than for its magnificent June in- 
florescence. 

It is an opportune moment to consider trees 
and shrubs with regard to their autumnal hues ; 
later they may be studied with reference to the 
beauty of their spray and leafless lines. The 
feature of autumnal coloring should receive at- 
tention when planting, just as much as the flow- 
ering habit of ornamental trees and shrubs. 

The very high coloring of foliage in nature 
we may not always hope to equal, for the reason 
that intensity of hue is frequently caused by 
overcrowding, poor soil, or special exposure, the 
latter being undoubtedly the most important 
factor. Trees growing on arid and stony ground 
are usually the most highly colored, though fre- 
quently a swamp, where the scarlet maple and 
sweet-gum flourish, glows like a lambent flame. 
Full maturity of foliage before it is touched by 
black frosts, and position with reference to the 
sun, also count for much in the bursts of color 
that hang upon the autumnal upland. 

Many kinds of trees and shrubs assume the 
same hue or hues every autumn, individuals 
offering no deviation. Other kinds, like the 



STije 3last |Honfe*s*i)ooti S4)ire. 317 

scarlet and sugar maples, are widely different in 
the colors individual trees assume. It may be 
noticed that a tree with individual markings 
always repeats these markings — the same red 
branch or branches, or the same scarlet leaves 
tipped v/ith green, duplicating themselves on the 
same tree year after year. It would be well if 
nurserymen would propagate, through grafting, 
striking individual trees for their autumnal color- 
ing, notably the scarlet and sugar maple. 

Without doubt the maple is king of arboreal 
colorists, no other tree presenting so great a 
variety of glowing hues. The scarlet maple 
contributes more self-colors than the sugar. Its 
leaf, however, falls quicker, and does not pos- 
sess the delicate shadings from green to reds 
and yellows that many of the sugar-maples do. 
But in its first flush of scarlet, orange, or cardi- 
nal it has no rival for distant effects. The 
larger Japanese maple {Acer polyinorphum) 
should always have a place, for the beauty of its 
autumnal foliage. Indeed, the smaller Japanese 
maples, as well, are of marked beauty during 
autumn. Among trees that assume a bright 
yellow, the Norway maple, elm, birch, hickory, 
maiden-hair, ash, yellow-wood, and larch are 
conspicuous. The sassafras has its individual 
hues — ochres, passing from yellow to deep or- 



31 8 jrtc CKarticn's Storj). 

ange and umber. The shad-blow colors a rich 
garnet, not unlike some of the tones of the 
pepperidge-tree ; while the dogwood's is unques- 
tionably the most vivid, deep lake-red of all 
trees. The American mountain - ash passes 
from yellow to rich clarets and purples ; the 
European mountain-ash seldom develops much 
autumnal coloring, confining its display to its 
brilliant fruit. The sweet-gum and sour-gum, 
fine trees at all seasons, are exceptionally at- 
tractive during autumn in the deep purplish-red 
and orange shades of the leaves. 

For simple variety of colors, the various oaks 
are almost equal to the maples. The oak has 
its own scale of russets and maroons ; and no 
one can pass it v/ithout admiration, when the 
November sunlight strikes through the gHsten- 
ing foliage of the native scarlet oak, the last 
bright-red of fall. 

If we take yellow alone for the color-stand- 
ard, the beech is without an equal. A beech, 
indeed, is always beautiful. In late November 
its colors still remain attractive, varying from 
rich Roman ochre to deep-brown bronze, and 
from pale rose-buff to lustrous, satiny gray. 
Assuredly Downing is mistaken in considering 
its beauty diminished during winter, owing to 
the retention of much of its foliajj^e. Its har- 



Ef)t anst i^ontt's=f)ootr Spire. 319 

mony is of marked loveliness in winter, a faded 
elegance clinging to it like a chastened autumnal 
memory. I can not understand how Wilson 
Flagg should refer to it as remarkably dull in 
its autumnal tints. To the Selborne rector 
the beech was *' the most beautiful of all trees," 
and Jesse rightly " loved it at all seasons of the 
year." 

Among smaller trees, the aspen is prominent 
for its golden-yellow hue, its effect being height- 
ened by the play of the sunlight upon its quiver- 
ing leaves. The common sumac is invariably 
one of the most brilliant colorists, especially- 
when growing on stony places. The cut-leaved 
variety {Rhus glabra larmtata), a striking 
shrub, w^ith deeply-cut, fern-like foliage, is 
equally beautiful in its October dress. Several 
of the shrubby spiraeas are worth planting sole- 
ly for their autumnal foliage, particularly the 
plum-leaved variety {S. pru7tifolid). But, of 
all small ornamental shrubs, the finest is Ber- 
beris Fortuneii, the small leaves of which vary 
through different shades of green, yellow, and 
salmon to vivid Venetian red. Of fruit-trees 
that contribute to the autumnal pageant, the 
most striking are the peach, pear, apple, and 
cherry. In the two former, greens are often 
most exquisitely graduated, passing into yellow. 



320 2ri)e ®^artien*s Stori). 

orange, and red ; the apple preserves its green 
for a long period^ and then, in numerous varie- 
ties, shades it with yellow before the leaves be- 
come seared by hard frosts. 

It is self-evident that there can be no satis- 
factory garden without a sufficiency of trees and 
shrubs. The former are necessary, if only for 
shade. But trees and shrubs with colored and 
variegated foliage, and those which assume vivid 
autumnal tints, are rarely seen as frequently 
under cultivation as they should be ; and many 
a garden, for this reason, lacks a great charm of 
outward nature. 

For several reasons, fall is the best season 
for transplanting. One can judge better, at 
least so far as the shrubberies and flower-bor- 
ders are concerned, where to plant, than when 
the plants have died down, or are denuded of 
foliage. Moreover, when planting is deferred 
until spring, many things are apt to be forgot- 
ten in the rush of garden-work. The sooner 
you plant a desirable tree, shrub, or flower, the 
sooner you will derive the benefit. Even a fine 
specimen perennial often requires years to attain 
its development. The proper way, it may be 
reiterated, is to plant somethmg every year ; and 
it is better to plant excessively, thinning out as- 
becomes necessary, than to plant sparingly. 



Srije 3last i^flonfe's^fjooTi Spfrc. 321 

The older you grow, if you love your garden, 
the more your taste will develop, and the more 
you will regret not having set out a tree, shrub, or 
perennial in the place it might occupy and adorn. 

Autumn is variously voiced by the poets, 
more often in a minor than a major key. De- 
spite the pomp with which she appears, her 
crimsoning woods are but the presage of ap- 
proaching death, when the snow shall be her 
burial shroud and winter's winds shall chant her 
funeral dirge. Charming she is in her mingling 
of October sunshine and shadow ; pitiful in her 
mournful November garb. • Yet let but a burst 
of sunlight touch the leafless trees, and she is in- 
stantly transformed. 

In British verse autumn is usually dank and 
sodden, bleak or shivering. The yew and the 
holly seem to absorb the light and cast a pall 
upon the landscape. The sugar and scarlet ma- 
ple, the dogwood and sumac, are wanting to 
impart their warmth of color; and St. Martin's 
summer somehow fails to shed a cheerful influ- 
ence as does our Indian summer. Thus David 
Gray : 

October's gold is dim — the forests rot, 
The weary rain falls ceaseless — while the day 
Is wrapped in damp. In mire of village way 
The hedgerow leaves are stamped ; and, all forgot, 



322 Effe ©^articn's Storw. 

The broodless nest sits visible in the thorn. 
Autumn, among her drooping marigolds 
Keeps all her garnered sheaves, and empty folds, 
And dripping orchards — plundered and forlorn. 

Even Shakespeare shivers : 

That time of year . . . 

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang 
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold. 

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. 

Tennyson is pathetic, but neither somber 
nor gelid : 

Calm is the morn without a sound, 
Calm as to suit a calmer grief. 
And only through the faded leaf 

The chestnut pattering to the ground : 

Calm and deep peace on this high wold, 
And on these dews that drench the furze. 
And all the silvery gossamers 

That twinkle into green and gold. 

Of all odes to autumn, Keats's, I believe, is 
most universally admired. This might almost 
answer to our own fall of the leaf, and is far less 
somber than many apostrophes to the season 
that occur throughout English verse. Another 
contemporaneous ode, though less generally ad- 
mired, is, I think, equally fine and certainly 
stronger. Hood's is emphatically an ode to late 



2rf)c Hast l^onfe's^l^ooti .Spivc. 323 

November ; Keats's applies more strictly to late 
October. Each is perfect in its way. Between 
them exists the same difference as there exists 
between Keats's and Leigh Hunt's rival sonnets 
to the grasshopper and cricket. Keats's is less 
forceful. Could there be anything stronger than 
Hood's grand opening lines ? 

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn 
Stand shadowless like Silence listening 
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing 
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, 
Nor lowly hedge, nor solitary thorn. 

It is the very shadow of November, when the 
fire of autumn is burned out, and shivering Na- 
ture silently awaits the shroud which is to cover 
her. These four lines have rarely been equaled 
in the picture they convey of autumn desolation : 

Where is the pride of summer — the green prime — 
The many, many leaves all twinkling ? Three 

On the moss'd elm, three on the naked lime 
Trembling, and one upon the old oak-tree ! 

And again : 

The squirrel gloats o'er his accomplish'd hoard, 
The ants have brimm'd their garners with ripe grain, 

And honey-bees have stored 
The sweets of summer in their luscious cells ; 
The swallows all have wing'd across the main ; 



324 ^\)t ©^artrcn's .Storj. 

But here the Autumn melancholy dwells 

And sighs her tearful spells 
Among the sunless shadows of the plain. 

Alone, alone, 

Upon a mossy stone, 
She sits and reckons up the dead and gone. 
With the last leaves for a love rosary. . . . 

Keats's ode is less austere. It has more 
of autumn gold than maroon ; more of i)ur- 
ple haze than leaden skies. Thus, the sec- 
ond stanza : 

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store ? 

Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find 
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor. 

Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind ; 
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep, 

Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook 
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers : 

And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep 
Steady thy laden head across a brook ; 
Or by a cidvir-press, with patient look, 

Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours. 

The alliteration in s is noticeable in each of 
the two preceding stanzas ; but Hood's felici- 
tous use of the vowel o throughout the ode 
imparts to it a solemnity and gloom that ex- 
press the mournful spirit of November such as 
has no counterpart in poetry inspired by the 
latter season. 



?rf)e aast ptonfe's^tooti Sflfrc. 325 

Thomson's old etching of Autumn still stands 
out as sharply as when first defined : 

Crown'd with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf, 
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain, 
Comes jovial on. 

Its expressiveness must have caught the fancy 
of the French, for a Gallic couplet reads : 

Couronnee d'epis, tenant en main la faucille, 
L'Automne joyeuse descend sur nos campagiies jau- 
nissantes — 

which, if not a literal transcription, bears its col- 
oring in a marked degree. 
Herrick paints Autumn as 

The Northern Plunderer 
To strip the Trees and Fields to their distresse, 
Leaving them to a pittied nakednesse. 

I have always admired a version of Autumn 
by an old master who painted in prose : 

Autumn is the barber of the year who shears the 
bushes, hedges, and trees— the ragged prodigal who con- 
sumes all and leaves himself nothing ; and this bald- 
pated Autumn is seen going up and down orchards and 
groves, fields, parks, and pastures, shaking off fruit and 
beating leaves from the trees. 

Charles Tennyson Turner's " October," like 
all his sonnets, is stamped with a delicate and 
graceful fancy : 



326 E\)t CKartrcn's Stovw. 

'Twas the last week the swallow would remain. 

How jealously I watched his circling play ! 

A few brief hours and he would dart away, 
No more to turn upon himself again. 

A more tender melancholy pervades the com- 
panion sonnet to " Autumn" : 

The crush of leaves is heard beneath his feet, 
Mixt, as he onward goes, with softer sound, 
As though his heel were sinking into snows. 
Full soon a sadder landscape opens round, 
With, here and there, a latter-flowering rose. 
Child of the summer hours, though blooming here 
Far down the vista of the fading year. 

The sounds of latter autumn, which we have 
all listened to from some still upland, are articu- 
late in " An Autumn Landscape," by Alfred 
Billings Street : 

Far sounds melt mellow on the ear ; the bark — 
The bleat — the tinkle — whistle — ^blast of horn — 
The rattle of the wagon-wheel — the low — 
The fowler's shot — the twitter of the bird. 

Nowhere in American poetry, however, are the 
lights and shadows of Indian summer drawn with 
a truer touch than by Lowell and Read. Thus 
the former's " An Indian Summer Reverie " : 

Far distant sounds the hidden chickadee 

Close at my side ; far distant sound the leaves ; 
The fields seem fields of dream. . . . 



5rt)e Hast if^onfe's^fjooti Spfve. 327 

The cock's shrill trump that tells of scatiered corn, 
Passed breezily on by all his flapping mates, 

Faint and more faint, from barn to barn is borne, 
Southward, perhaps to far Magellan's straits. . . . 

The single crow a single caw lets fall ; 

And all around me every bush and tree 
Says Autumn's here and Winter soon will be. 

Who snows his soft white sleep and silence over all. 

And Read, in " The Closing Scene " : 

All sights were mellowed and all sounds subdued, 
The hills seemed farther and the streams sang low ; 

As in a dream the distant woodman hewed 

His winter log with many a muffled blow. . . . 

The sentinel cock upon the hill-side crew, 
Crew thrice, and all was stiller than before — 

Silent till some replying warder blew 

His alien horn, and then was heard no more. . . . 

But, amid the melancholy of the autumn 
Muse and the gloom of autumnal skies, I catch a 
pleasing fancy to nurse through the tedious win- 
ter hours. I thought the crocus the herald of 
spring ; but in the copse I already catch a gleam 
of vernal gold. The witch-hazel {Hamainelis 
Vzrgzmana) is first to put forth its sturdy blos- 
soms, pure and fresh at this season as was the 
gilded urn of March. Often I meet its flower- 
clusters in the wintry woods when all its com- 
panions save the oak, beech, and hornbeam are 



328 



E\)c CKartJcn's <Stcits. 



denuded of foliage, smiling at the cold and snow. 
Does it not convey a meaning? Its pale-yellow 
petals speak to me of immortality, and its fra- 
grant breath exhales a promise of coming flowers. 
What more remains to say of the garden, 
now shorn of its beauty, except that each year 
one learns to love it more.!^ Alone, defying 
frost and sleet, the tall blue monk's-hood spires 
remain, to be stricken down in turn, and patient- 
ly await the dawn of spring. 




INDEX. 



Acer polymorphum, 317. 

rubrum, 27, 28, 316, 317. 
Achillea rosea, 51, 
Actinidia polygamia, 241. 
Adder's tongue, 71. 
Addison on the fancy, 7. 
Adiantum pedatum, 268. 
Adonis vernalis, 131. 
Agaricus campestris, 302. 
Ageratums, 315. 
Akebia quinata, 242. 
Allen, Grant, 206, 2100 
Alpine catchfly. See Silene 

ALPESTRIS. 

Althaeas, 35, 36, 234, 236, 

276. 
Alyssum, 131. 

Amelanchier Canadensis, 73. 
Androsace, 131. 
Anemone, no, 123, 124, 127. 

Alpina, 123. 

blanda, 123. 

fulgens, 123. 

Japanese, 37, 52, 280, 300, 

315- 
nemorosa, 123, 
palmata, 123. 

23 



Anemone Pulsatilla, 123. 

sylvestris, 123. 
Angling masters, ancient, 201. 
Anthemis tinctoria, 160, 247. 
Ants, 45, 199, 310, 323. 
Aphides, 204. 
Apios tuberosa, 242. 
Apple-blossoms, 86. 
Aquilegia, 141. 

Canadensis, 72, 142. 

chrysantha, 141. 

coerulea, 141. 

glandulosa, 142. 

longissima, 141. 

Stuarti, 142. 

vulgaris, 142. 

Witmanni, 142. 
Arbutus, 5, 61, 63, no. 
Arethusa bulbosa, 129. 
Arissema triphyllum, 72. 
Aristotle, 214, 250. 
Arum arisarum, 73. 
Ascham, Roger, 30, 31. 
Asclepias tuberosa, 251. 
Ash, 317. 
Aspen, 198, 319. 
Aspidium achrosticoides, 267. 



330 



fintrc):. 



Aspidium aculeatum, 267. 

cristatum, 267. 

felix-mas, 267. 

Goldianum, 267. 

marginale, 267. 

spinulosum, 267. 
Asplenium ebeneum, 270. 

nigrum, 270. 

trichomanes, 270. 
Association in odors, 7. 
Aster Novae Anglise, 308. 
Asters, 5, 256, 306-308. 
Autumnal hues, 300. 
Autumn and the poets, 321. 
Avens, scarlet, 248. 
Azalea, no, 139, 140. 

calendulacea, 140. 

nudiflora, 140, 255. 

viscosa, 140, 255. 

Bachelor-buttons, 146, 250. 
Bacon, Francis, 33, 34, 29^. 
Barberry, 35, 236. 

purple-leaved, 235. 
Bats, 149, 221, 222. 
Baudelaire, 7. 
Beeches, 255, 318, 327. 
Beech-fern, 78, 269. 
Bee-larkspur, 210-212, 
Bee-masters, ancient, 199. 
Bees, 106, 159, 188, 193, 204, 
209, 212, 216, 218, 219, 230, 

241. 323- 
a singular preference shown 

by, 210. 
colors preferred by, 209. 
perforating the corolla, 212, 



Bees and bears, 200. 

Beetles, destructive to flowers, 

217. 
Bell, Peter, 54. 
Belleau, Remy, 59. 
Bell-flower, 146, 156, 157. 
Bellworts, 73. 
Berberis Fortuneii, 319. 
Bermuda lily, 176. 
Bidens chrysanthemoides, 308. 
Bills, the abomination of, 

197. 
Birds, migrating, 311. 
Bitter-sweet, 299. 
Bitter-vetch, 160. 
Blackbird, 18, 81, 312. 
Black-cap chickadee, 255. 
Bladder-fern, 77. 
Bladder-senna, 235. 
Blood-root, 59, 63, no. 
Blot, Pierre, 303. 
Bluebird, 18, 27, 59. 
Blue jay, 20, 253. 

flag, 72. 
Bluets, 78. 
Bobolink, 82. 
Bocconia cordata, 283. 
Bog-garden, the, 33, 76. 
Bokhara bell-flower, 157. 
Bombus terrestris, 212, 219. 
Books I must read, 25. 

for summer reading, 193, 
202. 

pocket editions of, 87. 
Borders, flower, 46, 51, 52. 

size of, 38. 
Borers, 199. 



KnTier. 



33^ 



Bosoms of the beautiful, 155. 
Botanists, the German, 213. 
Botrychium Virginicum, 267. 
Bowne, Borden, 24. 
Bracken, 267. 
Brantdme on feminine beauty, 

67. 
Brier rose, 146, 189. 
Brisse, Baron, 10, 302, 303. 
Brown-creeper, 255. 
Bruchus pisi, 21. 
Bryant, 17, 65. 
Bull-frogs, 105, 311. 
Bulwer, 8, 194, 228. 
Bumble-bees, 159, 202, 204, 

209-213, 219, 307. 
Buphthalmura cordifolium, 

247. 
Burbidge, F. W,, 80, 91. 
Burns, Robert, 120. 
Burr-marigold, 308. 
Burroughs, John, 16, 19, 87, 

277. 
Butcher-bird, 19. 
Butler, 200. 
Butterflies, 193, 219, 223, 307. 

a storm of, 307. 
Butterfly-weed, 251. 
Button-bush, 233. 

Calendula, 156, 276, 308. 
Californian lilies, 175. 
Calla-lily, 5. 
Caltha palustris, 75, 76. 
Calycanthus, 35, 235. 
Camellia, 5. 
Camomile, 160. 



Campanula barbata, 157. 

Carpatica, 294. 

macrantha, 157. 

medium, 156. 

persiscifolia, 157. 

pulla, 157. 
Camptosorus rhizophyllus,27o. 
Canna, 294, 296. 
Canterbury 'bells, 156. 
Cardinal-flower, no, 136, 183, 

252. 
Carnation, 155, 250. 
Castle of Indolence, the, 

193- 
Catalogues, the florist's, 14, 88, 

288. 
Cat-bird, 82, 159, 310. 
Celastrus scandens, 242. 
Centaurea dealbata, 248. 

glastifolia, 247. 

macrocephala, 247. 

montana, 247. 

moschata, 248. 

Ruthentica, 247. 
Cephalanthus occidentalis, 

233- 
Ceterach officinarum, 270. 
Cheilanthes vestita, 270. 
Chelone glabra, 252. 
Cherry, double-flowering, 86. 
Chestnut-tree, 250. 
Chickadee, 255, 326. 
Chionanthus Virginica, 230. 
Chionodoxa Lucilse, 107. 
Chrysanthemum, 315. 

maximum, 246. 
Cicada, 106, 250, 278, 280. 



2>2>2 



EnTrej:. 



Cineraria, 51. 
Cinquefoils, 131. 
Cladrastis tinctoria, 230. 
Claytonia parviflora, 63. 

Virginica, 62. 
Clematis, 237-239, 299. 

Jackmani, 34, 237. 
Clethra alnifolia, 74, 232, 

233. 
Climbing shrubs, 236. 

staff-tree, 242. 
Club-moss, 255. 
Colchicum autumnale, 297. 

lily, 170. 
Collins, William, 70. 
Colors, 5, 8, 15, 38, 48, 55, 
61, 76. 121, 138, 139, 150, 
152, iS3i 174. 198, 209, 224, 
235. 245, 246, 252, 257, 276, 
281, 295-297, 300, 306, 309, 
315-320. 
autumnal, 300. 
unhappy use of, 153. 
when they harmonize, 153. 
Columbines, 52, 72, 141. 
Colutea, 235. 
Compass-plant, 287. 
Coptis trifolia, 127. 
Corchorus, 236. 
Coreopsis, 156, 286, 288. 

lanceolata, 161, 247, 288. 
Cornelian cherry, 236. 
Cornus Canadensis, 77, 78. 
floridus, 74, 316, 318, 321. 
Corolla, perforated by bees, 

2X2. 

Cotoneaster, 236, 



Country gardens, 53, 143, 145, 

156, 181. 
Cowslips, 4, 106. 
Crab, garland-flowering, 86. 
Cranesbill, 72. 

Crickets, 7, 106, 234, 251, 278, 
294, 301, 323. 
climbing, 279. 
green leaf, 241, 251, 278-280, 

3"- 
Crocus, 28, no, 297, 327. 

autumnal, 297. 
Cross-fertilization, 215. 
Crow-blackbird, 16, 20-22, 82, 

312. 
Crown-imperial, 61, 146. 
Crows, 15, 206, 327. 
Cryptogramme acrostichoides, 

270. 
Currant, yellow flowering, 36. 
Cypripedium acaule, 128. 

arietinum, 129. 

parviflorum, 128. 

pubescens, 128. 

spectabile, 128, 183. 
Cystopteris bulbifera, 268. 

fragilis, 77, 78, 268. 
Czardas, a Hungarian, 82, 
311- 

Daffodils (see also Narcissus), 
4, 5, 49. 52. Chapter IV, 
109, no, 146, 315. 
catalogues, 88. 
causes of color in, 95, 
culture of, in England and 
Holland, 98, 99. 



Kntiep. 



333 



Daffodils, dance of the, 96, 187. 

hoop petticoat, 90, 98. 

Horslieldi, 4, 87, 92. 

hybridizing, 91, 92. 

innumerable forms of, 89. 
Dahlia, 146, 295, 296, 315. 
Daphne blagyana, 118. 

cneorum, 3, 117. 

mezereum, 3, 36. 

rupestris, 118. 
Darwin, Charles, 209, 212, 215, 

224. 
Dawn, a summer, 159. 
Day-lilies, 161. 

white, 146, 161, 284. 

yellow. See Hemerocali.is 

FLAVA. 

Dead March in Saul, the, 197. 
Delille, Jacques, 101, 104. 
Delphinium Wheelerii, 210- 

212. 
Deutzia, 35, 36, 229. 

crenata fl. pi., 229. 

gracilis, 229. 

pride of Rochester, 229. 

scabra, 229. 
Dianthus, 131, 155. 

plumarius, 156. 
Dicentra cucullaria, 72. 
Dictamnus fraxinella, 145. 
Dictionary, the, illustrations 

in, 25. 
Dielytra, 146. 
Diervilla. See Weigela. 
Dioscorides, 214. 
Dobson, Austin, 194. 
Doctor, my allopathic, 24. 



Dod, Rev. C. W., 66, 115, 284. 
Dodecatheon, 131. 
Dog-tooth violet, 59, 71. 
Dogwood, 74, 316, 318, 321. 

shrubby, 235, 236. 

variegated, 36. 
Double-flowering rocket, 146, 

161. 
Downing, A. J., loi, 299, 318. 
Downy woodpecker, 255. 
Dryden, John, 104. 
Dumas, pere, 9, 87, 197. 
Dusk, a summer, 161. 
Dutchman's breeches, 72. 
Dwarf cornel, 77, 78. 

spUenwort, 78. 

East wind, the, 23, 203. 
Eau de Cologne, 8. 
Echinacea, 285, 288. 
Elaeagnus edulis, 236. 
Elder, 231, 307. 

black-fruited, 236. 

cut-leaved, 36, 232. 

fern-leaved, 36, 232. 

golden-leaved, 36, 231. 

variegated-leaved, 231, 236. 
Emerson, R. W., no. 
Epilobium, 256. 
Equinox, 14, 23, 24, 300. 
Erianthus ravennae, 37. 
Erlking, the, 197. 
Erythronlum Americanum, 71. 

giganteum, 71. 

grandiflorum, 71, 117. 

Hendersonii, 71. 
Eschscholtzia, 156, 276. 



334 



KnTiej:. 



Ettrick Shepherd, the, i6. 
Eulalias, 294. 

gracillina univitata, 294. 

Japonica, 37, 294. 
Euonymus, red-fruited, 236. 

white-fruited, 236. 
Eupatorium, 256. 
Evening primrose, 98, 256, 306, 
Ever-blooming pea, 161. 
Evergreens, pruning, 37. 
Everlasting, the field, 7, 136, 

257. 299, 306, 
Exochorda, 36, 235. 

False miter-wort, 126. 

Solomon's-seal, 78, 125, 127. 

violet, 127. 
Fathom-high sunflower, 295. 
Ferns, 33, 198, 255, 261. 

beech, 78, 269. 

Christmas, 267. 

cinnamon, 266. 

evergreen wood, 267. 

hart's-tongue, 270. 

interrupted, 265. 

maiden-hair, 261. 

oak, 77, 78, 127, 269. 

ostrich, 185, 261, 264. 

polypody, 77, 78, 126, 127, 
269. 

royal, 137, 241, 265. 

sensitive, 266. 

shield, 267. 

spleenwort, 270. 

walking, 270. 
Fertilization of flowers, the, 
214. 



Fire-flies, 161. 

weed, 299. 
Flagg, Wilson, 319. 
Fleur-de-lis, 139. 
Flora, spring and summer, 

compared, 135. 
Floral millennium, advent of, 

15- 
Flower catalogues, 14, 34, 
88. 

customs. Oriental, 151. 
Flowers at the grave, 6. 

for cutting, 138, 153, 156. 

indoor, 6. 

nocturnal, 223, 224. 

old-fashioned, 145, 148, 155, 
249. 

prevailing colors of, 224. 
Foliage, autumnal, 315-321. 

colors of spring, 61. 
Forsythia, 36, 83, 84. 

Fortuneii, 83. 

suspensa, 83. 

viridissima, 83. . 
Fraxinella. See Dictamnus 

FRAXINELLA. 

Fringed polygala, 77, 78. 
Frogs, 27, 201, 311. 
Frosts, the first, 300, 315. 
Funkia grandiflora, 284. 

Garden, a cool place in the, 
198. 
a neglected, 148. 
a reserve, 49. 
a wild, 299. 
a wild woods, 78. 



JJntre):. 



335 



Garden, the bog, 33. 

the country, 53, 143, 145, 
156, 181. 

the formal, 32. 

the golden rule of the, 32. 

the herb, 146, 147. 

the rock, soil for, 113. 

the rock versus the rockery, 
III. 

the syllabus of the, 55. 
Gardener, his apothegms, 107, 

155- 
Gardeners, 26, 160, 180, 188. 
Gardening, natural style of, 

34- 

the art of, 31, 33. 
Gardens and privacy, 35. 

to lounge in, 300. 
Garden-work in spring, 26. 
Gautier, 9. 
Geese, wild, 27. 
Genista saggitalis, 131. 
Gentian, no, 122. 
Gentiana acaulis, 122. 

Andrewsii, 122. 

crinita, 122. 

verna, 122. 
Geranium maculatum, 72, 
Gerarde, 155. 
Germans as botanists, 214. 
Geum, 248. 
Giant hyssop, 145. 
Gladiolus, 296. 
Gothe, 208. 
Golden-banded lily. See L. 

AURATUM. 

Golden bell. See Forsythia. 



Golden-rod, 299, 306. 
Goldfinch, 306. 
Goldthread, 77, 78, 127, 255. 
Grackle. See Crow-Black- 
bird. 
Grape hyacinth, 146. 
Grass, crab, 44. 
Grasses, lawn, 38. 
ornamental, 37. 
Grasshoppers, 204, 251, 279, 

301. 323- 

Gray, Asa, 54. 

Gray, David, 321. 

Gray's elegy, 69, 

Great groundsel, 248. 
sphinx, the, 220-223. 

Green leaf cricket. See Crick- 
et. 

Ground pine, 78. 

Guelder rose, 230. 

Habenaria blephariglottis, 129, 

ciliaris, 129. 

fimbriata, 129. 

psychodes, 129. 
Hair-bird, 193. 
Halesia tetraptera, 232. 
Hamamelis Virginiana, 327. 
Hamerton, P. G., 75, 95, 
Harebells, 131. 
Harpalium rigidum, 288. 
Harris, Thaddeus W., 21. 
Hart's-tongue fern, 78. 
Hawk-moths, 220, 221. 
Heleniums, 287. 
Heliantheae, 256, 280, 285-289, 
295. 299, 309. 



336 



finlie):. 



Heliopsis lievis, 257, 286. 
Hellebore, black, 16. 
Hemerocallis flava, 138, 142- 
144, 150, 170. 

fulva, 142, 144. 

graminea, 144. 

kwanzo variegata, 144. 

kwanzo variegata, fl. pi., 144. 
Hepalicas, 59, 62, 72, 106, 107, 

no, 116, 254, 256, 
Herbalists, the old, 214. 
Herrick, 276, 325. 
Herrick's Julia, 87. 
Hibiscus, 234. 
Hickory, 317. 

Hieraceum aurantiacum, 160. 
Hildreth, Charles Lotin, 13. 
Hollyhock, 146, 159. 
Holmes, O. W., 70, 161. 
Honey-bees, 199, 204, 212, 

213. 323- 
Honeysuckles, climbing, 239. 
Japanese golden-leaved, 241. 
Japanese, or Halleana, 199, 

206, 220, 222, 240, 251, 

275- 

monthly fragrant. 241. 

shrubby. 36, 146, 235. 

swamp, 255. 

wild, 137. 
Hood, Thomas, 205, 322-324. 
Hoop-petticoat daffodil, 90, 

98. 
Horace, 63. 
Hornbeam, 255, 327. 
Hornets, 202-204. 
Horsemint, 249. 



Hoteia Japonica, 154. 
Hudsonia tomentosa, 119. 
Humming-birds, 174, 206, 220, 

223. 
Hunt, Leigh, 323. 
Hydrangea, 35. 
paniculata grandiflora, 235, 

280, 298, 300. 
Hylodes, 19. 
Hypoxis erecta, 125. 

Iberis corifolia, 124. 

correaefolia, 124. 

Gibraltarica, 124. 

jucunda, 125. 

sempervirens, 125. 

tenoriana, 125, 
Indian summer, 321. 
Insect fertilization. Chapter 
IX. 

music, 204. 

pests, 160, 171, 186, 188, 203, 
204, 217, 239, 282, 289, 298, 
310. 
Insecticides, 45, 
Insects, edible, 22. 

injurious to vegetation, 21. 
Ipomoea, 15. 
Iris cristata, 124. 

English, 138. 

germanica, 137, 139, 146, 148. 

Koempferi, 137, 

pumlla, 124. 

reticulata, 124. 

Spanish, 138. 

Susiana, 138. 

versicolor, 72. 



fintiej:. 



337 



Jack-in-the-pulpit, 72. 
Jefferies, Richard, 116, 134, 

244, 292. 
Jesse, Edward, 13, 201, 202, 

274i 319- 
Jewel-weed, 252, 256. 
Jonquils, 6, 89, 97, 117. 

Kalmia latifolia, 233. 
Katydid, 19, 280. 
Keats, John, 120, i6i, 322- 
324- 

Ladies-tresses, 129, 256. 
Lady's-slippers, 128, 183, 
Lamb, Charles, 303. 
Lang, Andrew, 60, 192, 194. 
Larkspur, 146, 161, 206, 245, 

250, 294. 
Lawn, the, 38-46. 

pests of the, 43. 
Leiophyllum buxifolium, 119. 
Lemon-balm, 145. 
Lemon-verbena, 250. 
Lichens, 50. 

Life in the country, 147. 
Ligustrum, 232. 
Lilac, 36, 136, 146, 229. 
Lilies, 37, 49, 89, 161, 165, 195, 
246. 

among ferns, 185. 

synopsis of, 169. 

transplanting, 173. 
Lilium auratum, 5, 7, 168, 177, 
275, 297. 

Brownii, 176. 

bulbiferum, 26, 177. 



Lilium Canadense, 141, 169, 
183. 

Canadense flavum, 183, 185. 

Canadense rubrum, 141, 170, 
182. 

Canadense, varieties of, 184. 

candidum, 172, 174. 

Chalcedonicum. 174, 206. 

colchicum, 170, 171. 

croceum, 170. 

excelsum, 174. 

giganteum, 180. 

Grayi, 181. 

Hansoni, 174. 

Harrisii, 176. 

Humboldtii, 175. 

Isabellinum. See Excel- 
sum. 

longiflorum, 176. 

martagon, 177. 

martagon album, 177. 

martagon dalmaticum, 177. 

pardelinum, 175, 176. 

pardelinum Alpinum, 176. 

Parryi, 175. 

parvum, 176. 

Philadelphicum, 170, 172. 

pulchellum, 172. 

rubescens, 175. 

speciosum, 168, 176. 

speciosum Melpomene, 176. 

superbum, 141, 181, 182. 

tenuifolium, 171. 

testaceum. See Excelsum. 

Thunbergianum, 177. 

tigrinum, 181, 275. 

tigrinum fl. pi., 181. 



33^ 



Xntrep. 



Lilium tigrinum splendens, 
i8i. 
umbellatum, 177. 
Washingtonianum, 175, 
Lily, legend of the, i66. 
Madonna, 166, 172, 174. 
of the valley, 6, 146. 
tiger, 146, 181, 275. 
wild Turk's-cap, 181. 
wild wood, 183, 198, 206, 256. 
Lime-tree, the, 193, iq8, 199, 

206, 230, 323. 
Linaria vulgaris, 306. 
Linden, 310. See also Lime- 
tree. 
Linnsea borealis, 77, iii, 125, 

127. 
Lobelia, blue, or syphilitica, 
252. 
cardinalis, 252. 
Locust, 204, 
Lonicera Halleana, 199, 206, 

220, 222, 240, 275. 
Lotus comiculatus, 131. 
Lowell, J. Russell, no, 326. 
Lubbock, Sir John, 209. 
Lungwort, 72. 

Lychnis, scarlet or Chalcedo- 
nica, 206, 245, 248. 

Madonna lily, 166, 172, 174. 
Magenta, 5, 15, 51, 55, 61, 152, 

153. 
Magnolias, 26, 36, 83. 
conspicua, 84. 
glauca, 85. 
Halleana, 36, 84, 240. 



Magnolia Lennei, 84. 

macrophylla, 84. 

purpurea, 84. 

Soulangeana, 85, 

Thomsoniana, 85. 

tripetala, 85. 
Maiden-hair, 317. 

fern, 261, 268. 
Maple, Japanese, 235, 317. 

Norway, 317. 

scarlet, 27, 28, 316, 317, 321. 

sugar, 317, 321, 
Marigold, 276. 
Marsh marigold, 75, 76, 137. 
Martagon lily, 177, ig8. 
Martial, 250. 
Martin, purple, 18. 
Martin, Sir Theodore, loi. 
Matthiola annua, 297. 
May-beetle, 45, 282. 
May-flies, 149. 

Meadow-lark, 27, 59, 82, 312. 
Meconopsis Cambrica, 120. 

Nepalensis, 120. 
Meleager, 251. 

Menispermum Canadense, 242. 
Mertensia Virginica, 72. 
Midges, dance of the, 205. 
Midsummer- Night's Dream, 

the, 193. 
Mignonette, 250. 
Migrating birds, 311. 
Milkweed, 160, 252. 
Miller, Hugh, 24. 
Missouri currant, 87. 
Mitchella repens, 126, 127. 
Mock-orange, 36, 146, 148, 231. 



Kntier. 



339 



Monarda, 206, 249. 
Monk's-hood, 31, 146, 328. 
Montgomery, Alexander, 164, 

175- 
Moon-flower, 15. 
Moonseed, 242. 
Moonwort, 267. • 
Mosquitoes, 204. 
Moss-pink. See Phlox su- 

BULATA. 

Moths, 219, 223, 224. 
Mottoes, 187, 197. 
Mountain-ash, 310, 318. 
Mourning-dove, 193. 
Mulleins, 257, 306. 
Miiller, Hermann, 209, 214, 

216, 218, 221. 
Mushrooms, 301, 302, 306. 
Music, heating vs. cooling, 

197. 
Mutton, a roast leg of, 305. 

Nankeen lily, 174. 
Narcissus. See also Daffo- 
dil. 

Ard Righ, 94. 

cernuus, 95. 

corbularia, 98. 

corbularia citrina, 90. 

double poeticus, 94, 97, 144. 

emperor, 94. 

empress, 92, 93. 

Horsfieldi, 4, 87, 92, 93. 

incomparabilis, 91, 93. 

incomparabilis Barri, 91. 

incomparabilis Leedsi, 91. 

Incomparabilis Nelsoni gi. 



Narcissus Leedsi Circe, 95. 

Leedsi cynosure, 96. 

Mary Anderson, 96. 

maximus, 94. 

nobilis, 95. 

obvallaris, 4, 95. 

odorus, 6. 

orange phoenix, 93, 98. 

pallidus praecox, 4, 95. 

paper-white, 6. 

poeticus, 93, 97, 117. 

princeps, 95. 

pseudo-narcissus, 93, 96. 

Sir Watkin, 94. 

sulphur phoenix, 93, 98, 

tazetta, 6, 97, 99. 

tazetta, grand primo, 6. 

tazetta, grand soleil d'or, 6. 

Telamonius, 95. 
Nasturtium, 276. 
Necessity of the hour, a, 17. 
Night-flowering stock, 224. 
Nightshade, purple, 252, 
Noli me tangere, 256. 
Norway maple, 317. 
Nosegay, the old-fashioned, 

249. 
Nurserymen as money-mak- 
ers, 83. 
Nut-hatch, 255. 

Oak, scarlet, 318. 

Oak-fern. See Ferns. 

Oaks, 318, 327. 

Odors, 3, 6-9, 51, 136, 140, 145, 
146, 151, 175, 186, 220, 231, 
232, 242, 252, 27s, 284, 328. 



340 



KniJe):. 



Odors attractive to insects, 

218-220, 224. 
CEcanthus fasciatus, 279. 
Onoclea sensibilis, 266. 

struthiopteris, 183, 264. 
Onosma taurica, 131. 
Orange-lily, 165, 170. 
Orchids, 7, 88, 127. 
Orchis foliosa, 130. 

latifolia, 130. 

maculata, 130. 

spectabilis, 77, 128. 
Oriental poppy, 150, 170. 
Oriole, 18, 82. 
Orobus vernus, 160. 
Osmunda cinnamomea, 266. 

Claytoniana, 266. 

gracilis, 265. 

regalis, 265. 
Ostrich fern. See Ferns. 
Ostrowskia magnifica, 157. 
Owls, 12, 12, 222, 253, 

254. 
Ox, the phantom, 195. 
Oxlips, 4. 

Paeonias, 37, 138, 139. 
Papaver Alpinum, 120. 

Hookeri, 122. 

nudicaule, 120, 121. 

Orientale, 150, 170. 

Orientale bracteatum, 150. 

Parkmanii, 150. 

umbrosum, 121. 
Partridge-vine, 78, in, 126, 

127, 198, 255. 
Pasque-flower, 123. 



Peach, Japanese double-flow- 
ering, 86. 

red-flowering, 86. 

rose-flowering, 86. 

versicolor plena, 86, 
Peepers. See Hvlodes. 
Pepperidge-tree, 318. 
Perfume. See Odors. 
Periploca grseca, 242. 
Petunia, 220, 276. 
Pewee, wood, 159, 277. 
Phantom ox. the, 195. 
Phegopteris dryopteris, 269. 
Philadelphicus coronarius, 
231. 

foliis aureis, 231. 

Gordonianus, 231. 
Phlox amoena, 119. 

divaricata, iig. 

perennial, 37, 118, 146, 280, 
281, 297. 

procumbens, 119. 

subulata, 117, 119. 
Phoebe-bird, 277. 
Pink lady's-slipper, 128, 183. 
Plant infanticide, 118. 
Planting too closely, 85. 

too sparingly, 320. 
Plants, Californian, 158. 

capricious, 132. 

carpet, 125-127, 130. 

deterioration of, under cul- 
ture, 127. 

fertilized by insects, 141. 

half-hardy, 53. 

hybridizing, 140, 142, 281. 

ill adapted to climate, 233. 



Kntier. 



341 



Plants massing, 52. 

staking, 157, 203. 

to be avoided, 52, 115, 131, 
144, 268, 283, 284, 288. 

to propagate, 49, 50. 

transplanting, 48, 49, 173, 
320. 

water, 76, 137. 
Plover, 27. 
Plum, double-flowering, 84. 

purple-leaved. 36, 235. 
Plume-poppy, 283. 
Polygala lutea, 119. 

paucifolia, 77. 
Polygonum cuspidatum, 283. 
Polypodium falcatum, 269. 
Polypody. See Ferns. 
Pope as a gardener, 299. 
Poppy, Alpine, 120. 

double white, 146. 

Iceland, 52, 120, 121, 171, 250. 
Potash and iron medicine, 24. 
Pot-pourri, 10, 11. 
Primroses, 4, 107, 116, 303. 

in poetry, 109, no. 
Primula auricula, 108, 116. 

cortusoides, 108. 

denticulata, 108. 

farinosa, 109. 

Mistassinica, 109. 

Parryi, 109. 

polyanthus, 108, 116. 

rosea, 108. 

Sieboldi, 108. 

Sikkimensis, 108. 
Prince's pine, 78. 
Privets, 232, 236. 



Protection, advantage of, for 
trees, 84. 

for plants, 114, 115. • 
Pruning, cruelty of, 83. 
Prunus, 36. 

triloba, 84. 
Pteris aquilina, 267. 
Pyrethrum, 152. 
Pyrolas, 78, 127. 
Pyrus Americana, 310. 

aucuparia, 310. 

malus, 86. 

Quince, Japan, 35, 85. 

Ranunculus aquatilis, 76. 
Read, Thomas Buchanan, 326, 

327- 
Red spider, 27, 298. 
Redwing, 27. 
Rhododendron, 139, 140. 
Rhus glabra laciniata, 319. 
Ribbon-grass, 146. 
Ribes, 36. 

Robin, 4, 16, 18, 159, 310. 
Robinson, Phil, 16, 17. 
Rccket, double-flowering, 146, 

161. 
Romneya Coulteri, 158. 
Rook, the, 15. 
Rose-beetle, 171. 
Rose, brier, 146. 

Christmas, 16. 

legend of the, 186. 

Marie Rady, 189. 

of Sharon, 35, 146, 234. 

pests, 188, 203. 



342 



JJntrer. 



Rose pot-pourri, lo, ii. 

wild, 252, 2qg. 
Roses, .7, 158, 161, 165, 186, 
239, 246, 276. 

autumnal flowering, 276. 

species, hybrids, and vari- 
eties of, 187-190. 
Royal fern. See Ferns. 
Rudbeckia, 285-287. 
Rue anemone, 73, no, 117. 
RufEed grouse, 253, 267. 

St. Peter's-wort, variegated, 

236. 
Salvias, 315. 
Sambucus, 231. 
Sand-myrtle, 119. 
Sanguinaria Canadensis. See 

Bloodroot. 
Saponaria ocymoides, 131. 
Sassafras, 147, 317. 
Savarin, Brillat, 303. 
Saxifraga cordifolia, 116. 

cotyledon, 117. 

longifolia, 117. 

peltata, 117. 
Scabiosa atropurpurea, 248. 

Caucasica, 248. 
Scarlet maple, 27, 28, 316, 317, 

321. 
Scillas, 106, 107, 1 16. 
Scolopendrium vulgare, 270. 
Sea-lavender, 249. 
Sea-shore, the, 197. 
Sedum, in, 112, 115. 
Senecio macrophylla, 248. 

pulcher, 248. 



Sensitive fern. See Ferns. 
Sentiment, a charming, 17. 
Shad-blow, 73, 318. 
Shakespeare, 2, 13, no, 200, 

244i 314, 322. 
Shrubs, autumnal coloring of, 

3i6» 319, 321. 
hardy border, 35, 37, 229- 

236. 
pruning, 36, 37. 
the sweet-scented, 35. 
with dark foliage, 235. 
with ornamental fruit, 236, 

295. 
with variegated foliage, 235. 

Silene, 131. 
alpestris, 125. 

Silk-vine, 241. 

Silphiums, 287, 299. 

Silver-bell, 232. 

Skunk-cabbage, 60. 

Smilacina bifolia, 125. 

Snails, 116. 

Snake-head, 252. 

Snowball, 36, 146, 230. 

Snowberry, 236. 

Snow-drops, 3, 31, no, 146. 

Snow-pink, 146, 155, 156. 

Soils, colors of, 61. 
treatment of different. 46, 
47, 298. 

Soldanella, in. 

Sounds, 8, 19-21, 27, 28, 105, 
106, 159, 199, 204-206, 209, 
250, 251, 253-255, 277-280, 
310-312, 322, 326, 327. 

Sour-gum, 318. 



KnUer. 



343 



Sparrow, English, 16-18, 20, 
43, 81, 149, 159, 188. 

song, 18, 27. 

tree, 255. 

white-crowned, 81. 

white-throated, 81, 254, 311. 
Speedwell, 249. 
Sphinges, the, 220-223. 
Sphinx, Carolina, 220. 

cinerea, 220. 

drupiferarum, 220. 
Spiders, 280. 
Spiranthes cernua, 129, 294. 

gracilis. 129. 
Spiraea aruncus, 154. 

filipendula, 154, 171. 

Humboldtii, 154. 

lobata, 154. 

palmata, 155. 

prunifolia, 86, 319. 

Thunbergii, 86. 

ulmaria fl. pi., 154. 
Spiraeas, herbaceous, 154. 

shrubby, 36, 229, 230, 319. 
Sprengel, Christian, 214. 
Spring, an early, 27. 

beauty, 59, 62, no, 116, 256. 

bitter-vetch, 160. 
Squirrels, 12, 254, 323. 
Star-flower, 77, 78, 127. 
Star-grass, 78, 125, 127. 
Starling, 312. 
Starworts, 299, 308. 
Statice, 249. 

Stinging annoyances, 203, 256. 
Stocks, 146. 

double ten-weeks, 297. 



Stocks, night-flowering, 224. 
Street, Alfred Billings, 326. 
Sugar-maple, 317, 321. 
Sumac, 319, 321. 

cut-leaved, 36, 319. 
Sun-dial, the, 292, 300, 301. 
Sunflowers, 146, 285-289, 295. 
Swallows, 147, 193, 205, 220, 
323. 326. 

chimney, ig. 
Swamp, a, 252. 

honeysuckle. See Azalea 

VISCOSA. 

pink. See Azalea nudi- 

FLORA. 

Sweet birch, 255. 

pepper-bush, 232. 

sultan, 248. 
Sweet-gum, 316, 318. 
Sweet-william, 146, 155, 156, 

250. 
Sword-grass, 146. 
Symonds, John Addington, 

117, 187. 
Syringa, 35, 231. 

golden, 236. 

Talmage, Dr., 5, 203. 
Tanacetum crispum, 284. 
Tansy, curled-leaved, 284. 
Tecoma radicans, 241. 
radicans var. atrosanguinea, 

241. 
Tennyson, 13, 159, 161, 199, 

221, 322. 
Thalictrum anemonoides, 73. 
Theocritus, 202, 251. 



344 



fintrejr. 



Thomson, James, 193, 325. 
Thoreau, 13, 58, 148, 251, 260. 
Thorns, 74, 307, 310. 
Thrush, 8, 159. 

hermit, 81. 

wood, 81, 82, 
Thyme, 146, 284. 
Tiarella, 117, 126. 
Tiger-lily, 146, 170, 181, 275. 
Tilton, Theodore, 195. 
Toad-flax, 306. 
Toads, 105, 106, 115, 116. 
Touch-me-not, 256. 
Tradescantia, 146. 
Transplanting, best season for, 

320. 
Tree-sparrow, 255. 
Tree-toad, 193. 
Trees, autumnal hues of, 315- 

320. 
Trillium, 62, 64, 65. 75, 254, 
256. 

eiectum, 64. 

erythrocarpum, 64, 117. 

grandiflorum, 117. 
Tritoma, 280, 296. 
Trout-fishing at night, 221. 
Trout, Rocky Mountain, 18. 

speckled, 18, 254, 301. 
Trumpet-flower, 147, 241. 
Tulips, 4, 146, 151. 
Tunica saxifraga, 125, 294. 
Turk's-cap lily, 181, 198. 
Turner, Charles Tennyson, 

325- 
Twin-flower, 77, III. See also 
Linn ea borealis. 



Uvularia grandiflora, 73. 

Vaccinium, 77, 127. 
Valerian, 146, 160. 
Veery, 253, 312. 
Verbena, 220, 276. 
Verdant sculpture, 37. 
Veronica longifolia subsessilis, 
249. 

pumila, 125. 

repens, 125. 

rupestris, 125. 

verbenacea, 125. 
Vervain, 256. 
Vesper sparrow, 161. 
Viburnum lantanoides, 236. 

opulus, 236. 

opulus sterilis, 230. 

plicatum, 231. 
Viola blanda, 66. 

cornuta, 294. 

cucullata. 65. 

odorata, 66. 

pedata, 65. 

pedata bicolor, 65, 294. 

rostrata, 119. 
Violets, 5, 7, 8, 62, 63, 65, 66, 
109, no, 161, 256. 

a hot-bed of, n, 12, 

how they became purple, 
66. 

Marie Louise, 6. 

Shakespeare's, 66. 

under the, 70. 
Virgil, 250. 

Virgin's bower, 27,7, 238, 239, 
252. 



Jintrev. 



;45 



Voices of Nature, 204. 
also Sounds. 
winter, 16. 



See 



Walton, Izaak, 201. 
Wasps, 202, 204. 
Water-lily, 5, 75, io5. 
Water-plants, 76, 137. 
Water ranunculus, 75. 
Weather, the, 14, 15, 22, 23, 
27, 28, 135, 193, 203, 245, 
246, 300, 301. 
Weeds, the big, 256. 
Weigela, 37, 234, 235. 

white, 36. 
White alder, 74, 232. 

fringe, 230. 
White, Gilbert, 116, 205, 319. 
White-crowned sparrow, 81. 
White-throated sparrow, 81, 

254, 3"- 
Whittier, J. G., no, 194. 
Wild bean, 242. 

carrot, 306. 

rose, 252, 299. 

thorns, 74, 307. 

Turk's-cap lily, 181. 



Wild wood-lily, 183, 198, 206, 

256. 
Wind, Ruskin's plague, 23. 
Wind-flower. See Anemone. 
Winter-green, 78, 126, 127, 255. 
Wistaria, 236. 
Witch-hazel, 327. 
Woman as a monopolist, 8, 9. 
Woodcock, 27, 252. 
Woodpecker, downy, 255. 
Wood-pewee, 159, 277. 
Wood-thrush, 8, 159. 
Woods, the wintry, 255, 267, 

327. 
Woodsia Ilvensis, 270. 

obtusa, 270. 
Wordsworth, 96, 187. 
Wren, 18. 

Xylocarpa Virginica, 210, 211. 

Yellow-bird, 311. 
Yellow-wood, 230. 
Yew, 321. 

Zenachus, 250. 
Zinnia, 5, 15, 308. 



THE END. 



24 



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